


Eight Times Rebecca and Nathaniel Grew Closer (and One Time Rebecca Freaked Out About It)

by heartbash



Series: Rebecca and Nathaniel Give Love a Chance [3]
Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Canon Divergent, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Sex, Shower Sex, Suck it canon!, Texting, Therapy stuff, Two people just trying their best ok?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-05-05 16:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14622633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbash/pseuds/heartbash
Summary: This story takes place during the 8-month time jump in Chapter 4 ofRebecca and Nathaniel Give Love a Chanceand chronicles the important points in their relationship over the 8 months. This fic has got it all. Fluff! Angst! Feels! More Fluff! Enjoy!





	1. Rebecca and Nathaniel Go to the Zoo!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel is full of surprises. 
> 
> _Previously on Rebecca and Nathaniel Give Love a Chance: After the events of 3x07, Rebecca and Nathaniel decide to embark on a romantic relationship. Rebecca struggles to find a balance between pursuing the relationship and not falling into her obsessive behaviors. Rebecca goes back to work, but they decide to keep the relationship a secret. Out of necessity, the only people who know about them are Paula, Heather/Hector, and White Josh. While Rebecca is jacked up on hormones for the egg donation, she suspects Nathaniel is cheating. She and Paula stalk him and discover he is attending a support group for loved ones of people with mental illnesses. Nathaniel tells Rebecca he loves her during sex but she doesn’t say it back. And now you’re caught up!_

Rebecca sighed and glanced at the right bottom corner of her computer monitor. 9:57AM. The day was dragging and she had been at the office for only an hour. She glanced up at Nathaniel through the glass of his office and their met eyes for a brief moment, Nathaniel looking annoyingly cheerful for a Thursday morning.

The irony of their work situation was not lost on her. She wanted to come back to work to keep her mind busy and distract herself from romance. Yet, for eight hours a day she sat ten feet away from the object of her affection. Sure, they kept it mostly professional while they were in the office. After all, Paula was the only one privy to their relationship status. But they couldn’t help the lingering glances, the small talk that morphed into flirtation, and all the flimsy excuses they found to touch each other at any opportunity. Not to mention all the over-the-top cheesy sticky notes Nathaniel left at her desk when he wanted to flirt without being too obvious:

_Is it hot in here or is it just you?_

_There must be something wrong with my eyes, I can’t take them off you._

_Was that an earthquake or did you just rock my world?_ (It was both.)

_If I had a dollar for every time I thought of you, I’d be in a higher tax bracket._

_Can you add me to your to-do list? You’re at the top of mine._

His goal, she now knew, was to get her to laugh. And every time he overheard her telltale giggle from the bullpen, he smirked at her from his office, supremely satisfied with himself.

She had been back at work about a month now and they more-or-less had settled into a routine. Rebecca and Nathaniel never carpooled to work or had sex at the office. (Once she was off the hormones injections, she agreed that this was a capital “B” bad idea.) They spent nights together only on weekends now. Like Dr. Shin said, healthy boundaries. She still repeated it to herself like a mantra. Healthy boundaries. Eight hours a day within eyesight of each other should be enough for one day. At least that’s what logical side of her brain told her.

Dragging her feet, she ambled to the breakroom and poured herself a cup of coffee. George was close behind and sidled up beside her to wait for his turn. She was decidedly not in the mood to deal with George, especially before she had her coffee. He and Nathaniel had developed an unusual relationship during her absence, and George acted weirdly jealous whenever she and Nathaniel interacted.

When she moved to the side to stir in her creamer, George picked up the coffee pot and started softly singing to himself. “ _Coffee time George, time for George’s coffee…_ ”

“Hey,” Nathaniel greeted her as he entered the breakroom.

She turned around and Nathaniel was still looking uncharacteristically upbeat for this early hour. “Hi, good morning,” she replied neutrally.

He pointed in her direction, “I was wondering...are you busy today? Or is today a slow day for you?”

She shrugged and continued to stir her coffee. “Just a normal day, I guess. A little slow. Why? Do you need help on something?”

“ _A little time just for George_ ,” George continued to sing.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Uh, nothing big. I just may need your help at a client meeting. Off-site.”

“Which client?”

“Uh, well, a client. An important one. It’s, um...” he stammered and his eyes kept darting to George.

Rebecca squinted at him and moved away from the counter. “What’s going on with you?”

“ _He’s gonna make himself a cup…_ ”

“The meeting...that is definitely happening...with a real client...is at 11AM.”

“ _He’s gonna drink it up…_ ”

“Shut up, George!” both Rebecca and Nathaniel said in unison. George abruptly stopped singing and busied himself with a packet of sugar.

“Nathaniel, you’re giving me literally no time to prepare,” Rebecca complained.

George interjected, “I can help you, boss. Whatever you need. You know, I’m your man.”

“Uh, no, no. I need Rebecca specifically on this,” he said to George and then addressed Rebecca again. “Be ready in 15?”

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to take this to go.” Rebecca expelled an exaggerated breath and walked back to her desk. Each of them gathered their things, he in his office and she in her cube.

Paula, noticing they were both packing up, came over and leaned against the ledge of Rebecca’s cube, trying to act nonchalant. She whispered, excited, “Where are you guys going? Playing hooky to get some afternoon delight? A little nooner?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her.

“Ew, a nooner? No one uses that word anymore. No, it’s just some dumb client meeting Nathaniel’s making me go to.”

Paula glanced over at Nathaniel, who was smiling entirely too much, as he zipped up his briefcase and grabbed his gym bag.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you sure? Are you sure that isn’t the face of someone who’s about to get laid?”

Rebecca considered this, peering over at Nathaniel in his office and seeing the same self-satisfied grin. “Huh. Maybe you’re right.”

A few minutes later, Nathaniel approached her cube with a spring in his step. “Ready?”

“You two have a great _meeting_ ,” Paula said, drawing out the word, and then walked back to her cube.

On the way to the elevator, Nathaniel got Maya’s attention and said, “Rebecca and I are going to be out the rest of the day at a meeting. If anything comes up, I’ll deal with tomorrow. Got it?”

“You got it, boss,” she replied, giving him a timid salute, and then scuttled away.

As the doors of the elevator started to close, Paula caught her eye and winked suggestively. Rebecca snickered.

“What?” Nathaniel asked, unzipping a pocket of his gym bag.

“Nothing. Paula thinks we’re sneaking off to have sex.”

Nathaniel retrieved a pair of aviator sunglasses from the bag and put them on with a flourish. “Oh no. What I have planned is much better than that.”

“Wait, so the client meeting is all a ruse? Also, better than sex? I mean, we’ve had some pretty good sex.”

“Get in my ‘rari, babe, and you’ll see,” he said in an affected voice.

The elevator doors opened to the first floor and Nathaniel made a beeline for the restroom. “Give me one minute,” he requested with one finger in the air. When he emerged moments later, he was changed into casual clothes - a pair of jeans and a blue and green plaid shirt.

“This must be good, because the Nathaniel I know would never ditch work for a day of whimsy.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know everything about Nathaniel yet.”

*****

Once they were on the freeway, heading South on the 5, Rebecca was getting antsy with anticipation. “Pleaseee tell me where we’re going,” she whined, bouncing up and down in her seat.

“You are so impatient,” he observed and clicked his tongue at her. Still keeping his eyes on the road, he reached into the back seat and pulled out a pair of grey and teal sneakers. “You’re going to need these,” he said, nodding down at her high heels.

“Why do you have my shoes?”

“You left them at my apartment.”

“Come on, Nathaniel! Where are we going?!”

“Ok, ok. Relax. Look in the glove compartment.”

She pressed the release button and the the drawer fell open, revealing his annual pass to the San Diego Zoo. Grabbing the pass, she exclaimed, “Yes! Finally! I’ve been dying to know why you have this.” Her eyes were wide with excitement. She had seen the pass on his kitchen counter several times and harbored a curiosity over it, though he had yet to volunteer any valuable information.

“I just like the zoo,” was all he offered as explanation. His eyes were obscured by his sunglasses, preventing her from getting a read on his expression.

“Enough to have an annual pass to a zoo that’s a two-hour drive away?”

He flashed her a mischievous grin and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. If the zoo made him this happy, then she would be next in line for her own annual pass.

*****

As they approached the front entrance of the zoo, Rebecca marveled at a huge topiary in the shape of an elephant. There were fewer patrons than she expected, likely due to the fact it was a weekday, so they walked right up to admissions with no wait.

“Nathaniel! Hi there!” A woman welcomed him from inside the admissions booth. She appeared to be in her 60s with wispy brown hair and kind hazel eyes, which were partially obscured by her glasses that rested on the tip of her nose.

“Gayle, hello. Nice to see you.”

“Nathaniel,” she said, sounding impressed, “I see you’ve brought a guest.”

“Yes, um, this is my girlfriend, Rebecca,” he put his hand on her back, nudging her forward.

“Isn’t that nice!” Gayle exclaimed, looking up and down at Rebecca. “Well, aren’t you just the prettiest thing?”

“Wow, thank you.” Rebecca, surprised and flattered, put her hand over her heart.

“And how long has this been going on?” Gayle asked, leaning in conspiratorially, as if the monkeys could be eavesdropping.

“Uhhh…” Rebecca was taken aback by the forwardness of the question, considering this person had been a stranger mere minutes ago.

“About four months,” Nathaniel jumped in.

“How nice. Meanwhile, a woman my age can barely find a decent man to go on a date with. Let alone someone with any hair!” she joked. “Well, you two have fun. And Nathaniel, I’ll let Ron know you’re here,” she added as an aside.

As they walked away from the booth and into the park, Rebecca was flabbergasted. Nathaniel acted as if everything was normal. His hand drifted to hers and he laced their fingers together.

“No, no, no,” she said as they walked. “You don’t get to just pretend that was a normal interaction. I have about a million questions, the first being: Who are you and what have you done with Nathaniel? Do you have a whole secret life I don’t know about? Maybe a wife and two kids? Or, maybe you’re a furry? I’m not one to kink shame but that might be a tough one for me to get into.”

He laughed. “No, none of that. Uh, my mother and I used to come here when I was a kid.”

“Awww, that’s sweet.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Well, kind of. She would bring me here to cheer me up when my father was, um, too hard on me.”

“What do you mean?”

As he spoke, he stared straight ahead, still leading her by the hand. “He had high expectations.” He paused and then shook his head slightly and concluded, “It doesn’t matter. The point is I have a lot of good memories here. It’s the one place I was allowed to be a kid and run around.”

Rebecca tried to imagine a young Nathaniel. His mother probably dressed him like a Gap Kids model regardless of the occasion. Tucked in collared shirt. Little pressed slacks. Tightly combed bleach blonde hair. He was probably overly cautious to do things most kids do naturally - jump off a bench, climb a tree, pet a stray kitten - constantly looking to his mother for silent approval.

Was he a sensitive child who was trained, brainwashed by his father to be a cold, ruthless go-getter? Considering how quickly his facade crumbled around her and observing how he spoke of his mother - with that soft, reverent tone - she suspected this was the case. For some reason, whenever she envisioned Nathaniel’s father, Captain Von Trapp, complete with ear-piercing whistle, from _The Sound of Music_ came to mind. _You may call me Captain._ Yep, that seemed about right.

Rebecca let him guide her through the park, and she tried to see everything through his eyes. She tried to live in the moment and forget about everything else. This place obviously held some significance to him so she wanted to be present, take it all in. As they walked by different animal enclosures, Nathaniel intermittently pulled her close to murmur animal facts in her ear.

“Did you know we share 99% of our DNA with chimpanzees?”

“Most penguins mate for life. Actually there are quite a few birds that do - eagles, swans, even vultures…”

“Did you know elephant herds are matriarchal? And that they grieve when an elephant in their herd dies?”

“If you watch the cheetah, he uses his tail as a steering mechanism…”

“You’ve told me this one before,” she interrupted.

“Ah, you remember. I didn’t think you were listening.”

“I may have been drunk, but I certainly remember you knowing way more than is normal about cheetahs.”

“They’re my favorite,” he explained, shrugging sheepishly.

*****

After wandering through the park for some time, they came upon the entrance of an exhibit with a sign that read _Tiger Trail_. It was meant to be immersive, the enclosures very subtle and the trees and other flora replicating the tiger’s natural habitat of the Asian rainforest. True to the climate, the air felt humid and sticky inside.

As they quietly walked down the trail, not another person in sight, they each scanned the forest for tigers. Rebecca was completely swept up by the experience, feeling a jolt of exhilaration each time she thought she saw some branches rustling in the distance.

“Wait,” Nathaniel whispered and abruptly stopped walking. He pointed to a figure, low to the ground, in the distance. Rebecca, embracing the moment, walked up to the railing separating them from the exhibit and squinted, looking through the trees. He cozied up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and holding on to the guard rail on either side. The tiger slowly stalked closer to them and Rebecca became mesmerized by its stare.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, enchanted.

Nathaniel leaned down and his voice rumbled low in her ear. “I always thought your spirit animal was the tiger.”

“Oh? Why?” she asked, leaning back into him.

“Well, for one, tigers are gorgeous, with those piercing, stunning eyes. But they also have claws that can rip your heart out,” he whispered, his hands drifting to rest on her abdomen. He nodded to the tiger, getting closer still. “Once she decides on her prey, she’ll stalk it for hours until she can sink her teeth into its neck, suffocating it, pulling all its breath out of its lungs.”

He dropped his head and gently bit down on a small patch of skin at the base of her neck. Goosebumps prickled all over her arms. “What else?”

“They’re highly territorial,” he said softly, nuzzling her neck.

“Uh huh.” She tilted her head to give him better access.

“Very vocal. They roar and hiss and groan. Probably annoy the rest of the animal kingdom with their constant chatter.”

She snorted at that and turned in his arms, making her hands into tiny claws and throwing them around his neck. “I’m the tiger,” she said joyfully against his mouth just before pulling his bottom lip between her teeth. Playfully fighting back for dominance, he grabbed her roughly under her thighs and propped her up on the railing, closing the gap of their height difference. Her nails digging into his neck, she devoured him, making growling noises low in her throat.

He pushed at the hem of her dress and snaked his hands underneath, his fingers dancing over the bare skin of her thighs. In response, she broke the kiss, her whole body shivering, and started nipping at his jaw. “So ferocious,” he mumbled, his thumbs now on the inside of her thighs, inching dangerously close to where she wanted it most.

“Um, excuse me!” a woman’s voice cried behind them.

Like teenagers busted in the backseat of a car, they scrambled, Rebecca immediately closing her legs and sliding down off the railing. A woman in her late 30s stood a few feet away with one hand on a stroller and the other covering the eyes of a kindergarten-aged child standing next to her.

Rebecca quickly grabbed Nathaniel’s hand and pulled him toward the exit, yelling “Sorry!” over her shoulder.

Safely outside the exhibit, Rebecca dissolved into laughter. “We are seriously the worst.”

He shrugged. “They have to learn sometime.” Looking up at the sky, he shifted back and forth awkwardly and couldn’t help cracking up along with her. “I’m going to need a moment so I don’t scar any more children.”

Her eyes zeroed in on his pants and she cackled harder, hugging her middle with one of her arms. “Oh my god, you’re going to poke someone's eye out!”

“Whose fault is that!?” he cried, his eyes still cast upward, avoiding looking at her.

Once she calmed down (and he regained control of his body), she asked, “Ok, honey, where next?” She had a gleam in her eye, her energy carefree and easy.

“Honey,” he repeated under his breath, testing out the word. The word disarmed him and he faltered at first when he spoke. “Um, uh, I have a little surprise for you. It’s a bit of a walk from here, but it will be worth it.”

“Another surprise? As if this entire day hasn’t been one surprise after another...”

*****

On their way to Nathaniel’s mystery destination, Rebecca noticed a food stand on the side of the path, advertising a number of fatty, sugary foods. She pulled on his arm. “Hey! Let’s get a giant pretzel!”

“You go ahead, I’m fine. Most of the food here doesn’t pass my personal nutrition test.”

Rebecca bought a pretzel and a diet soda from the food stand. She handed off the soda to Nathaniel, skipping over the pleasantry of asking if he would hold it for her. After tearing off a section and shoving it into her mouth, she moaned appreciatively. Her mouth still full, she offered a piece to Nathaniel.

“Here, take it. It’s sooo good.”

He waved his hand in front of him. “Nah, it’s ok.”

“Nathaniel, take it, come on. It’s salty and buttery and so yummy.” She pushed the pretzel toward his face, near his mouth.

“No thanks.”

“You’re being silly! Just eat the damn thing.”

He stepped back and almost shouted, “Stop! I said I don’t want it, ok?!”

“Whoa.” Her eyebrows climbed high on her forehead and she stopped chewing.

“Sorry -”

“Hey, raising your voice at me? Not ok.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized. “But you’re always trying to get me to eat things I don’t want. Why can’t you just accept me?”

Wow. Now she was the one who was completely disarmed.

“Hey,” she said, in as soft a tone as she could manage, “I won’t do that anymore, ok?”

He rubbed his hand over his face. “God, I’m sorry. I’m a jerk. I’m an asshole. It’s all just...it’s hard to explain.”

She watched his face as he wrestled with his emotions. “I know this isn’t about me, but you know I’m still going to like you if you gain a few pounds, right? How I feel is not conditional on your weight.”

His eyes dropped to his shoes and his brow furrowed. “Um…yea, of course.”

“I like _you_ ,” she assured him.

He scoffed, “Yea, well, you’re the only one.”

“What?”

“I’m not stupid. I know what people think of me. And I know what people will think when they know we’re together. You’re this sweet...little...ball of sunshine that everyone loves. And I’m the arrogant jerk with no soul.”

He cared about what people thought of him? Of them?

She reached out and touched his forearm. “One thing I’ve learned from therapy is the more you tell yourself negative things like that, the more you start internalizing it and believing it. And then you start acting that way, perpetuating an endless cycle of negative self-image.” When he didn’t respond, avoiding her eyes, she went on, “More people would like you if you let them see the real you. This Nathaniel. The one I know.”

He bit his lip. Showing more self-awareness than she expected, he admitted, “I don’t want to look weak and lose everyone’s respect.”

“ _I_ still respect you. More, actually, now that I know you’re an actual human being with feelings.”

He let out a breath and fidgeted uncomfortably. “I get it. I do. Can we just drop it and go back to having a nice day?”

She leaned on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Ok, honey,” she said and she was rewarded with a smile.

*****

“Here we are,” he said, stopping in front of a large arch that prominently displayed _Panda Canyon_.

“Pandas? Huh, ok. Was not expecting that,” she remarked, a bit confused.

As they entered _Panda Canyon_ , a man briskly walked toward them and held his hand out to Nathaniel. The man was tall and lanky, probably in his late-30s. He wore a khaki green shirt and cargo shorts. “Nathaniel! Hey man, how are you?!”

“Good, good. This is my girlfriend, Rebecca. Rebecca, this is Ron.”

For a moment Rebecca mused that maybe Nathaniel brought her here so he could finally use the word _girlfriend_ in public. He used the term liberally when they were alone, but in public things were still hush hush. But here, miles and miles away from home, they didn’t have to worry about nosy coworkers or eavesdroppers buzzing around. The whole day he had been overly touchy-feely, holding her hand, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. She wondered if this is how he would act if their relationship was out in the open. For someone who said his parents never hugged him, he was surprisingly tactile with her. Or maybe it was because he was so starved for physical touch in childhood. She wasn’t sure.

“Hi!” Ron greeted her, overly enthusiastic, and Rebecca did an exaggerated courtesy. “Gayle told me you would be stopping by with your friend so I pulled Xiao Liwu aside for you.”

Rebecca’s eyes went wide. She grabbed Nathaniel’s arm. “Wait, what? What’s happening? Am I going to play with a panda right now? Is it a baby panda? Can I hold it?”

“Well, we actually don’t have any cubs right now. You know how stubborn pandas can be,” Ron said, elbowing Nathaniel, and they both chuckled. “Because they have trouble mating,” Ron explained to Rebecca when she didn’t laugh along with them. “Xiao Liwu is a few years old and is very docile with people because he was raised in captivity. Nathaniel actually used to bottle feed him as a cub.”

“What?!”

What. The only plausible explanation at this point was that she was in a parallel universe.

Ron lead them into the _Panda Research Station_ while giving Rebecca background on all the giant pandas. “Now, Xiao Liwu’s behavior is still very cub-like, but he weighs 160 pounds, so keep that in mind. Even though he looks cute, he’s still a wild animal. Xiao Liwu seems to be in a good mood today, so I think we’ll have a pleasant encounter.”

“You think?” she echoed.

When they entered the enclosure inside the research station, the small panda perked up its head and spotted Ron immediately. He strutted up to Ron while Rebecca stood nearby, her hands covering her face, trying not to squeal. The panda made a squeaking sound at Ron and he patted his back affectionately.

“Oh my god, he’s so cute,” she said through her hands. “Does he know who you are? Does he recognize you?”

“He knows me because I feed him,” Ron chuckled. “It’s unclear if pandas really care about humans beyond simple sustenance. Here.” He gave some bamboo to Rebecca and the panda’s eyes followed it. He looked up with anticipation at Rebecca.

“I don’t know, I’m scared. You do it.” She thrust the bamboo into Nathaniel’s hand.

Xiao Liwu walked over to Nathaniel and took the bamboo from his hand. The panda then sat back on its hind legs and manipulated the bamboo with his claws, bringing it up to his mouth. Nathaniel seemed completely at ease. “Here,” Nathaniel took her hand and guided it to Xiao Liwu’s back so she could feel his fur. Her hand was unsteady, hesitant. “Hey, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, ok?” he reassured her.

She tried to relax and be present in the moment. “This is so surreal,” she said, feeling in awe of the creature in front of her, who was chomping away at the bamboo, completely oblivious to her. Nathaniel watched her reaction closely. When she started to look more comfortable, he removed his hand from hers and rubbed her back, silently encouraging her.

When the bamboo was gone, Xiao Liwu resumed his position on all four legs. He stomped his front legs enthusiastically and looked up at Rebecca. “Ah!” she squealed and removed her hand, backing away from the panda.

“He wants to play with you,” Ron translated.

“I think I’m going to pass. Those claws are long and kind of scary. I’ll watch from over here.”

The three of them watched while the panda explored the habitat, eventually climbing one of the fake trees and resting there. Nathaniel made small talk with Ron, and it became clear they had known each other a long time. It made Rebecca wonder how many other secret friends Nathaniel had. He rarely mentioned any friends except for White Josh (which she was less than thrilled about) and the occasional story about his roommate from Stanford.

When the panda became listless, Ron announced that he should reunite him with his mother and father.

“Thanks a lot, Ron,” Nathaniel said and shook his hand.

When Ron shook Rebecca's hand, he commented, “You must be special. The only person I’ve seen him with is Mrs. P.”

Nathaniel’s face reddened. “Thanks a lot for that.”

Rebecca smiled demurely and followed Nathaniel out, waving back to Ron appreciatively on the way.

*****

The sun started to lower in the sky, stretching its rays out toward the horizon. The park had emptied considerably since they arrived, parents taking their children home for dinner or soccer games or play dates.

Today, Nathaniel allowed them to forget about their own obligations. No work. No deadlines. No schedules. Today, they were just two people, new lovers. Today, she felt sixteen all over again, when all her senses were new and heightened. She felt the thrill of holding the hand of a boy she liked. The excitement in each new, little detail she learned about him. The tingle of pleasure that traveled from her head down through limbs every time he smiled down at her. That smile she knew was just for her.

As they closed in on the park exit, Nathaniel spotted a stone bench near a small botanical garden of California native wildflowers. He held his arm out toward the bench and she sat down. Without the constant background chatter of noisy children, the park became eerily quiet, save for the occasional bird’s lullaby. He draped his arm around the bench, encircling her back.

Nathaniel cleared his throat, a habit, she noticed, that usually indicated he was gearing up to say something important. “I was wondering. How’s, um, your therapy thing going? You don’t talk about it much.”

“Oh.” That was not what she expected. The whole day they had been in such a carefree love bubble. Why did they need to talk about therapy now? “It’s good. Did I tell you I transitioned back to my old therapist? Her name is Dr. Akopian.”

“Akopian?” His brow furrowed in confusion, like he was searching his brain for some tidbit of information but couldn’t get a handle on it.

“Yea, why?”

He shook his head slightly. “Nothing. I think the name just sounded familiar or something.”

“I’ve probably mentioned her before.”

“Of course. So how is it going with her?” he asked, his voice hesitant.

“Ok. I have good days and I have bad days. We’re still figuring out medication. It’s a process. Figuring out what works for me, the brand, the dosage, whether medication will work for me at all. You’d think it would be a more of a science…” she trailed off.

He contemplated this for a moment. Eventually he took a deep breath and said in a shaky voice, “I want you to know I support you and I care about your treatment plan. Whatever I can do to help you follow it, I’m here. I want to help.”

I care about your treatment plan?

The words sounded unnatural, yet practiced. No doubt he was repeating things he heard at his support group. Things he had been told to say. Things you’re supposed to say to someone with a mental illness. She wanted so, so badly to tell him she knew about the group. She wanted to bust him. She wanted to scream, “I know what you’re doing!” But she couldn't. She couldn’t tell him without confessing that she had followed him that night with Paula. That she had acted crazy, yet again. She hadn’t trusted him. And, hormones or not, she shouldn’t have done it.

Their eyes met. His were soft and compassionate and, damn him, he was trying so hard. So she said, “Thank you. Today has been a great day, maybe one of the best since I started treatment, actually. I was able to forget about everything for a day, you know?”

He nodded, silently agreeing. The corners of his mouth turned up. “You know what you remind me of right now? With your dress and the gym shoes?”

Of course she did. She would never forget it. “When I tried to stab you with a pen?” she suggested, on the verge of giggling.

He touched his forefinger to his nose. Bingo. “You smelled horrible,” he teased. “But you saved everyone’s jobs. That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Knew you were different. Special.”

Rebecca looked back at the garden. The sun was casting a radiance over the field of wildflowers, setting them on fire with oranges and yellows. A faint floral scent drifted over, filling her nostrils with its sweetness.

“Wow, this is really romantic,” she said, disbelieving, moreso to herself than to him.

“You sound surprised. You don’t think I can be romantic?” His fingers found their way to the back of her neck and he rubbed softly at the wispy hairs at her nape.

_When I’m around you, I stop thinking about myself and I think about you._

_When you find someone who melts the iceberg that is your heart, you save ‘em right back, because you want tomorrow to start today forever._

_Dear Rebecca,_  
_You are one of the kindest, smartest, and sweetest people I’ve ever met. I’m here for you._  
_Nathaniel_

Huh. She supposed he was romantic. Why didn’t she realize that before?

After a while, she could sense his eyes on her. He was no longer watching the sunset but studying her. When she turned to him, a warm glow illuminated his face.

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured.

“Is this you trying to prove you’re romantic?” she questioned, raising one eyebrow at him.

“No, I mean it,” he replied. “But I can lay it on thicker if you want.”

“Please do.” While she said it jokingly, she felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

“Well,” he started, with a small smile playing at his lips, “I’m really happy that you are my sweet, little ball of sunshine.” His hand moved up to cup the back of her head, stroking her hair, for emphasis. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

His voice lowered, becoming more sincere. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Rebecca. I want to be with you all day, every day. 24/7. 365. I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up with you in the morning. I want to be so all-over-you that you can’t stand the sight of my face anymore. I want to smother the hell out of you, Bunch, and I mean it.”

While she knew he was being intentionally hyperbolic, it didn’t feel hokey or cheesy or like a joke at all. It felt real, utterly genuine. He loved her. Maybe it was puppy love. Maybe he was idealizing her a bit. But he was wildly in love with her. And that was plain as day.

Not obsessing. Not obsessing. Not obsessing.

Boundaries. Healthy boundaries.

She must have been silent for too long or her face betrayed her, because he asked gently, “Too much?” When she didn’t respond, he jumped in, stumbling over his words, “Sorry. I was just being… I know we’re not doing weekdays.”

After another pregnant pause, she whispered, “I don’t want it to be too much. You have no idea how much I _don’t_ want it to be too much. I want to be able to give you -”

Everything.

“It’s ok. It’s ok,” he soothed. “I shouldn’t have…”

She cut him off by sealing her lips to his. She didn’t want to hear an apology for loving her. For giving her what she always wanted. The kiss was soft and gentle and warm. He opened his mouth to her almost immediately, slipping his tongue inside her mouth, holding her head steady with the hand still tangled in her hair. She caressed his face, letting herself get swept up in the moment.

While she knew she was terrible at relationships and love - just patently, empirically bad - there was one thing she did know how to do. One way she knew how to communicate that was better, more eloquent, than words.

She broke the kiss. “Hey, why don’t we go back and finish what we started on the _Tiger Trail_? I’ll show you how much of a tiger I can be.”

The smile started in his eyes, which were ablaze with the reflection of the sun, and then spread slowly all over his face. “Alright, sunshine,” he laughed and in one motion scooped her up from the bench, hooking one arm under her knees while the other supported her back.

She squealed in delight, kicking her feet, as he carried her away. Tomorrow they would go back to meetings and briefs and therapy and responsibilities. But for now, she was content to finally pounce on her prey and suffocate him with her affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next chapter...
> 
> It's Nathaniel's Birthday!
> 
> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace


	2. It's Nathaniel's Birthday!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Nathaniel's birthday and Rebecca is hell-bent on making it a special one.

September 8. Just an ordinary day. No reason to have any expectations or hopes about this day. Because no one knew it was Nathaniel’s birthday. He never told anyone, not even Rebecca, and he purposefully excluded it from all social media. He never liked a fuss, and birthdays were the ultimate excuse to make a fuss. Therefore, nobody needed to know. And no one did know. At least, that’s what he thought when he woke up the morning of his thirty-first birthday.

The night before, he and Rebecca broke the rules again. Rebecca showed up at his door, on a weeknight, wielding a bottle of wine and a playful smirk. Maybe he should have objected, should have turned her away. But when she looked so damn adorable, wearing his stolen Stanford t-shirt, and he knew it would lead to a night tangled up in his sheets together, how could he say no?

In the past week or two they had broken the rules a few times. A couple of weekday slumber parties. A stolen ten minutes in the supply closet to make out. A hug in his office they had to explain away as congratulations for settling a case. (Darryl asked where his hug was for last week’s win in court.) Nathaniel fell for it every time, grasping at every one of her love kernels like it may be the last. He felt completely powerless to her wants, powerless over his own reaction to her. The last time she showed up at his door like this, he mustered enough willpower to start to protest, “Are you sure?” But she silenced him by forcefully pressing her lips to his and he was lost.

There was a little thrill to it, sure. It felt validating and, frankly, flattering to feel totally desired and wanted by her. To feel like she was willing to break the rules so they could spend a few more hours together. He didn’t know if her behavior was a reflection of her progress in therapy. Did she get the green light to ease up on the restrictions? Or, was she losing a battle with her own self-control? If he was being honest with himself (he wasn’t), he would be forced to acknowledge he was purposefully ignoring the little voice in his head telling him to question it.

But, because he was too weak to say no, he awoke on the morning of his birthday to her warm body nestled up against his. When he roused and opened his eyes, her face was staring back at him, aglow with the morning, silently watching him.

“Mmm good morning.”

Her eyes lit up and she grinned like a lovestruck schoolgirl. “Hi honey.”

“What time is it?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of one of his eyes.

“We have some time,” she assured him.

He tightened his arms to pull her closer and his eyes drifted back shut. “Hmm ok, just a few more hours.”

She lightly slapped his chest. “Not that much time. But enough time for this,” she said, demurely, ghosting her fingers over the front of his boxers.

He flinched involuntarily at the contact and chuckled. “Give me a second to wake up.” When he forced himself to reopen his eyes, hers were still staring intently up at him, her chin now resting on his chest.

“Do you need some help getting ready? Maybe in the shower?” She suggested with one quirked eyebrow and a devilish smile.

“Alright, I’m up now,” he replied and she darted out of bed in a flash.

In the bathroom, Rebecca turned on the shower spray and Nathaniel rummaged through a drawer under the sink. “Got you a gift,” he said and placed travel-sized versions of her shampoo and conditioner in her hands. “You’ve been spending more time here lately, on work nights, so I thought you could use these.” He shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “And if you want to leave some more clothes here, there’s room in my closet.”

“Aww,” she cooed. After setting the bottles in the shower stall, she grabbed his face with both hands, pressing her fingers into his cheeks. “You are so sweet and caring and considerate. The best, most wonderful boyfriend ever.” She kissed him, making an exaggerated smacking sound, and then started to strip off her clothes.

Wow, ok. It was overly effusive for her, but he’d take it.

Once they were in the shower, Rebecca stepped under the spray and closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of the hot water. While the water sluiced over her, he let his eyes caress over every curve of her body and immediately felt tension building within him.

He grabbed the shampoo and squirted a blob into his hand. When she opened her eyes and stepped out of stream, he asked, “May I?”

“That’s way more shampoo than anyone needs, but sure.” She stepped closer to him and he spread the shampoo over her hair. He started massaging at the base of her neck and worked his way all over her scalp. “Hmmm, that’s nice,” she hummed and she closed her eyes again, leaning into his touch.

After her hair was sufficiently full of suds, he wiped the foamy bubbles away from her face, so she could see. Her striking blue eyes locked with his and he suddenly felt breathless at the intimacy of the moment. More than anything he wanted to tell her he loved her. But he was gun-shy. After she didn’t return the sentiment a few months ago, when he said it for the first and only time, he put a self-imposed moratorium on the phrase. It had been too fast anyway, way too early. He had been swept up in the moment, just like he was now. So when he opened his mouth and said, “Hey, I -” he stopped short.

She raised her eyebrows, silently prompting for the completion of the sentence. Hoping to distract her, he rubbed the leftover shampoo into his own hair. With a sly grin, she reached up to return the favor and giggled, “Bend down.” He stooped down so she could rake her fingers through his hair, her touch sending tiny jolts through his body.

When she was satisfied, she pulled him by the neck to join her under the fall of water. Unable to resist any longer, he captured her lips with his and pressed her up against the tiled wall. She immediately sprang into action, moaning enthusiastically and gripping him so tightly it was almost painful. His hands explored her curves, paying special attention to the slick swell of her hips and the cinch of her waist.

Aching for more, he slipped one of his hands between her legs to find her hot center, meanwhile pressing his erection insistently against her thigh. Before he could push a finger inside her, she turned around, sticking her ass out toward him. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, biting her lip, her eyes issuing a challenge.

His hand fell heavy against the wall, next to her head, as he attempted to anchor himself, while he used the other to guide himself inside her. With a labored grunt he pushed into her and she slammed her hips back into him, closing the remaining distance. Suddenly he was deep inside her tight, velvet heat. “Shit, Rebecca.”

He used his free hand to rub up and down her back and down over her ass appreciatively, insanely aroused by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her. Moaning and crying out wildly, she set a fast pace, thrusting hard back against him. Somehow, even in this position, she was commanding him, dominating him, and he was completely at her mercy. It really should be illegal for someone to feel this good, to be this good.

He felt completely out-of-control, barreling way too fast toward orgasm. “Wait, wait,” he gasped. It was too much. He needed to attend to her before he was too far gone. He reached his hand around to rub her clit, but she was unrelenting and swatted his hand away.

“Just fuck me,” she growled.

That’s what she wanted? Fine. He moved his hand from her hip to her hair, gathering the wet strands into a ponytail, and lightly pulled. The pain seemed to ignite her and she let out a deep, satisfied groan in her throat. A few more deep thrusts and he was a goner. When he felt the telltale tension just before release, he pulled out and then exploded on her lower back.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” he said in short bursts, leaning heavily on the arm braced against the wall.

As he panted and tried to recover, she turned in his arms and kissed up and down his jaw and collarbone.

“I’m sorry. You’re incredible. I couldn’t…” he huffed.

“Shhh.” She cut him off with her lips, kissing him slow and lazy. When he grazed his hand between her thighs, she grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to her face.

“Let me...” he started.

“Hey, no one’s keeping score. I wanted to.”

He kissed her forehead. She wanted to. It was fine.

It was his birthday, after all.

*****

At the office, Rebecca continued to vibrate with excitement the entire morning. She was wired to a degree that surpassed any caffeine high he had witnessed. Constantly in motion, she was like a blur, even when seated at her cube.

She knew. She knew it was his birthday. Even beyond her frantic energy, he could see it in the mischief dancing in her eyes and the subtle play of her lips that said _I have a secret_.

Lately she had been like this - amped, hyper, overly enthusiastic - when they saw each other. He took it as a compliment. It meant she was happy, right?

...right?

Maybe it was time to stop ignoring that little voice in his head.

As much as he didn’t like to invoke Paula, she was the closest thing he had to a Rebecca translator, so he decided it was time to call in reinforcements. He called Paula into his office, closing the door behind her, and gestured for her to take a seat across from him.

He folded his hands in front of him formally and began, “Rebecca…”

“I know,” Paula immediately responded.

He was taken aback for a moment, a little surprised. “Oh. So she’s…”

“Yep. Had too many, way too many donuts.”

Shit.

“This morning, she was -”

“This morning?” Paula’s eyes narrowed. She must know about the rules.

He tilted his head. “Well, she came over last night.” He lifted both his hands in defeat. “I know, I know. But what am I supposed to do?”

She was silent for a moment, her judgment palpable. Finally, she said, “You realize that exercising restraint shows that you love her more than giving in, right?” He pursed his lips and exhaled slowly. “Listen, I’m sure she’s a spitfire in the bedroom, but you need to start thinking with the right head.”

He looked down at his desk, ashamed. “And she knows it’s my birthday, right?”

“Oh yes.” Paula sighed. “I’ve already tried to talk to her, but she thinks I’m overreacting. I think it’s coming off too Mamma Bear. Like I’m being over-protective.”

He nodded. “Ok, I’ll talk to her.”

Paula got up and walked to the office door, but before she opened it, she turned back. “Hey, I know I can be a little harsh sometimes, but I know you’re coming from a good place. Ok?”

He couldn’t help but flash back to the morning, to all the other times he ignored the signs. He didn’t deserve any praise. “Thanks, Paula.”

*****

As the day continued, he waited with dread for whatever Rebecca had planned for him. At least, he assumed something was coming. She had all morning to acknowledge that she knew about his birthday but she didn't. Why? He guessed it was because she had some kind of surprise planned, and Paula all but confirmed it. He held on to a small hope that whatever it was didn’t involve the office or their coworkers. With how secretive Rebecca was with their relationship, he figured it was a safe bet that she would wait until after work for whatever she had up her sleeve.

All that hope dissipated when he was in the car with Darryl, driving back to the office after an afternoon client meeting. While Nathaniel drove, Darryl fidgeted restlessly in his seat. “Nathaniel, can you believe I’m going to be a father for the second time in a mere 7 months and 5 days? Well, that’s just the due date, he or she could possibly come before or after that.”

Nathaniel smiled politely. “It’s great, Darryl.”

“And Rebecca donating the egg for me. Isn’t she such a sweet person? I hope the baby is as sweet as her.”

He nodded in agreement but kept his eyes on the road, not wanting to reveal anything with his expression.

“Don’t you just _love_ her? She’s just so kind and thoughtful.”

“Uh huh,” he acknowledged, suddenly very suspicious of where the conversation was going. Did he know about them?

Darryl stared at Nathaniel expectantly.

“What?”

“Oh, I can’t hold it in! Rebecca planned a birthday party for you!” Darryl shouted and then slapped his hand over his mouth.

“What?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just so excited. Happy birthday!”

Nathaniel sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Honestly I don’t want a fuss…”

As he pulled into a parking space, Darryl charged on, “Nathaniel, it’s going to be great! Rebecca thought of everything and she got the whole office on board! She even convinced us that we didn’t need a cake because of your...dietary restrictions. Isn’t that so thoughtful of her?”

He put the car in park. “Let’s just go inside.”

In the elevator he steeled himself for the onslaught of attention, but it didn’t prepare him for what happened next. The entire office was covered in brightly-colored streamers and balloons. It was over-the-top, way too much for his liking. In his periphery he saw the conference room table covered in food. All of their coworkers were in a semi-circle in front of the elevator waiting for him, a few wearing purple, pointy party hats. And in the middle of the group, Rebecca, looking so hopeful and excited that it made his chest tighten.

There must have been some confusion because a few people said “Surprise!” while the others said “Happy birthday!” and it became a cacophony of syllables jumbled together.

He instinctively felt the urge to shout at everyone to get back to work, but Rebecca’s eyes, so full of affection for him, pulled him back. “Thank you, everyone. This is...nice.”

Satisfied with his response, everyone began to mill around, mingling and grazing on the food in the conference room. Rebecca stepped forward, holding a party hat. “Happy birthday,” she said and put the hat on his head, stretching on her tiptoes to pull the string under his chin. For a moment he thought she was going to kiss him, and he was relieved when she took a step back to admire her handiwork. “It looks good on you. Very distinguished,” she joked.

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Just then George, who had been lingering nearby, stepped forward, “Boss, she made me do it. She’s like a bulldozer. She won’t take no for an answer. She said she would kill herself -”

“Bup, bup, bup,” she waved her hand dismissively at George. “Let’s just say George took a little peek at your personnel file for me.”

Threatened to kill herself? Jesus.

“I see.” Looking past Rebecca, Paula caught his eye. She was wringing her hands together in front of her, her face solemn, a stark contrast to the whimsical decorations surrounding her. He abruptly removed the party hat and set it down on the nearest desk. “I’m still the boss,” he said as an aside to Rebecca when he saw a pout forming on her face.

She grabbed his arm and lead him to the conference room. She spoke in quick, rapid fire. “So, I knew you wouldn’t want cake, so I got cupcakes, some of which are gluten-free. Just for you. And instead of party food, I got fruit and veggies, though I think everyone hates me for it. I invited White Josh, but he’s in the desert or something? I almost invited your dad, then thought better of it. Oh, and the decorations are mostly purple and green because I think those are your favorite colors. I mean, you have a weird amount of purple ties so I took a gamble there.”

“Rebecca, hey, slow down. This is very...thoughtful,” he borrowed Darryl’s term. “But you didn’t need to do all this for me.”

She pulled him into a corner and lowered her voice so no one would overhear. “Let’s tell everyone.”

“Huh? Tell everyone what?” he asked, mimicking her hushed tone.

“That we’re together! Right now! At the party!” she whispered enthusiastically, her eyes wide.

“What? But I thought you -”

“Listen, if we tell everyone, then I can love on you all day long and we won’t have to hide it.”

“Love me?”

“Love ON you. You know, kiss and talk and smother each other.”

This was what he wanted. Wasn’t it? So, why did it feel all wrong?

“Rebecca, let’s not do that right now. Let’s talk about it after the party, ok?”

Suddenly, finally, he understood why she set this boundary in the first place.

Her face fell, but before he could comfort her, Maya and Darryl walked up to chit-chat with them.

“Rebecca, this party is so great!” Darryl exclaimed.

“Yea, Rebecca, this party is hundo-p lit,” Maya agreed.

“You guys...isn’t Nathaniel just the best boss?” Rebecca asked, raising her eyebrows.

Darryl and Maya seemed taken off-guard by this sudden change of subject.

“Um, yea? The other day he patted me on the head, though I think he was trying to stand up.”

“I was trying to stand up,” Nathaniel confirmed.

“Nathaniel is just like a surrogate son to me,” Darryl said, hesitantly reaching out and touching Nathaniel's arm.

“Yea, he’s just such a sweet, loyal, generous, loving...boss.” Rebecca beamed.

Darryl and Maya exchanged confused glances.

“I need to go check my voicemail,” Nathaniel said, abruptly removing himself from the conversation. He fled to his office but, even from behind his desk, he could hear Rebecca in the background, talking excitedly about him with their coworkers. He wanted badly to step in and pull her aside but that would just raise more suspicion. A sick feeling crept into his stomach and settled there.

Eventually he rejoined the party and tried his best to steer the conversations into safer territory. By the end, he was exhausted and his anxiety over Rebecca’s mental state was escalating by the minute.

The party started to wind down around 5:00, as people started leaving for the weekend. Rebecca told everyone to go and that she would clean up. She insisted. Nathaniel pitched in and started taking down streamers, a perfect job for his height advantage, while she wrapped up the leftover food. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her, trying to get a handle on her mood. He was still at a loss for what to say or do, but he knew he had to do something. Paula was counting on him.

Despite all the stories he heard in his support group, he, perhaps naively, held onto hope that her recovery would be mostly linear. That she would get better and better over time and that things could only go up. But now the realization hit him like a lightning strike. They weren’t special. Or different. Suddenly he felt guilty, like somehow he should have prepared for this situation and pre-planned a course of action.

He tried to remember all the messages they repeatedly emphasized in group.

_Listen carefully._

_Be supportive and express your support out loud._

_Show interest in your family member’s treatment plan and encourage them to follow it._

_Don’t push too hard._

_Don’t give up._

The truth was sometimes all these platitudes seemed so foreign, like they couldn’t possibly apply to them. When he looked at her, he didn’t see someone with a mental illness or a personality disorder. All he saw was her. Rebecca. The woman who made him laugh and smile like no one has before. The woman who challenged him and called him out when he was being a dick. The woman who threw him off-balance and made him question everything. The woman he wanted to give the world to. The woman he loved.

Lost in these thoughts, the time slipped away and, like a flash, the office was cleaned up. He asked her to come back to his apartment and she readily agreed, absconding the leftover cupcakes for later consumption.

*****

Back at his place, as he changed out of his work clothes, she pulled a navy t-shirt out of his dresser and stuck her nose in it. She sighed, “I love how you smell. Can I wear this?”

The image of her on his doorstep, wearing his t-shirt, her eyes red and puffy from crying, flashed in his mind.

“Of course,” he said but felt a twinge of regret in his gut. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?”

She nodded and followed him to the couch. Her brow furrowed with worry, she settled in next to him, tucking a leg underneath her. His arm automatically took residence on the back of the couch behind her, enveloping her frame.

He cleared his throat. “Um, thank you for the party. That was very nice of you.”

She perked up. “You’re welcome.” She brought her hand up to his face and stroked his jaw. “Remember the sad thing you told me a couple weeks ago at the zoo? That you think no one likes you? I wanted to show you that people do like you. You’re so, so wonderful and I want everyone to know that.”

“Rebecca, it’s not your job to get people to like me. I’m fine, really.” He paused and a lump formed in his throat. “Also, I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell the office about us right now.”

“What?” Her voice turned quiet, soft. “I thought that’s what you wanted. I want to make you happy.”

Nathaniel put his free hand on her thigh and squeezed gently. “Rebecca, I _am_ happy. I’m so happy. But I feel like you’re not yourself right now.”

“What?” she asked, hurt, and pulled her hand away from his face.

“We’ve been breaking the rules lately,” he stated, his eyes searching hers. “Is it because you’re ready for that? Or is it...something else?”

Rebecca crossed her arms in front of her. “What are you my therapist?”

Defensiveness was always her knee-jerk reaction and, at this stage in their relationship, he recognized it immediately. When she was in this state of mind, it was hard to reach her.

She rolled her eyes. “No, you know what? You sound just like Paula.” Then, she had a revelation. She pointed at his chest. “You two were talking this morning in your office. Were you two plotting or something?”

“No, no,” he lied. “I just know the boundaries are there for a reason and I’m trying to be…”

Rebecca bit her lip and shook her head. “I cannot believe you.” Her voice was steady, but it had a bitter bite to it. “ _You_ are the one always pushing me. Pushing us forward. _You_ are the one who made me feel guilty for not telling everyone about us. You said you want to spend every minute together even though _you know_ it’s not good for me. You fucking told me you love me after two months of dating! Up until this moment you were all too eager to break the rules with me. And now...I’m giving you what you want and suddenly you want to pull back? What the fuck, Nathaniel?”

She was right. Oh god did he hate that she was right.

These past five months he thought he was being a good boyfriend by giving her everything he thought a woman wanted. Time and attention and gifts and affection and compliments. He even patted himself on the back for attending the support group. Isn’t that what a great boyfriend would do? But showing up every week didn’t mean shit if he wasn’t applying the things he learned.

What he hadn’t stopped to consider until now was that he wasn’t being a good boyfriend _**to her**_. At this stage in her recovery, she didn’t need overly gushing praise or declarations of love or big gestures. What she needed wasn’t romance. What she needed was a rock, someone to support her and offer her a hand when she stumbled. Someone who would be strong when she was weak.

Fuck. It seemed so obvious now.

“Wow, you are so right. I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m an idiot. I didn’t listen.”

Rebecca sighed and her eyes shined with nascent tears. “It’s happening. Exactly what I didn’t want to happen is happening. I’m…I’m doing it. I’m ruining everything.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m obsessing. I can’t…”

“Rebecca, you’re not ruining anything. It’s ok. We’ll just go back to the rules and I promise I will stick to them. I won’t tempt you. I won’t push…”

“Just stop.” A tear rolled down her cheek. She shrugged, resigned. “I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m going to be dealing with this my whole life. I know it’s called recovery, but I’m not going to wake up one day and suddenly be recovered.”

“I know that.”

“Maybe Dr. Shin was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready for a relationship.” In her eyes he saw profound sadness, hopelessness. “What if I’m always like this? What if I never get better?”

“Rebecca, don’t give up.”

Her eyes drifted to the ceiling, desperately trying to keep her tears at bay, to stay strong. “I’m never going to be normal for you.”

“I don’t want you to be normal. I want you to be you.”

More tears escaped and she let out a sound akin to a staccato sob, a hiccup. She finally returned his gaze and her face crumbled. “When is this going to get easier?”

“Come here,” he whispered and cupped the back of her head to draw her down to his chest. She went readily, burying her face in his shirt. He pulled her legs over his and she let him cradle her in his arms.

“I haven’t been supporting you the way you need. I’m going to try harder, ok? We can do this.”

She stilled against him, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to his heart beat. For a long time, they sat together in silence, the moment stretching and enveloping them. It dawned on him that this is what he should have been doing the whole time. Listening. Caring. Supporting. Just being there.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and whispered, “You know what I really wanted for my birthday?”

“What?” She sniffed.

“Just this,” he said, tightening his arms around her.

“So then you don’t want my gift?”

“Gift?”

She lifted her head from his chest. “You think I wouldn’t get you a gift?!”

She untangled herself from his limbs and walked to the foyer to retrieve a small paper gift bag. It was purple, keeping with his party theme, with plain white tissue paper.

When he moved the paper aside, he let out a full belly laugh. It was a small, orange and black, striped plush tiger toy. The tag on the tiger’s leg read _San Diego Zoo_.

“Termingator has a friend!” she exclaimed, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“This is _perfect_ ,” he laughed. He leaned in and kissed her.

“What’s its name?”

He thought for a moment. “Oh, Rebecca, obviously.”

She grinned and kissed him again. “You know, those leftover gluten-free cupcakes aren’t going to eat themselves,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Ok, fine, I’ll have a cupcake.”

“Yea?”

“Uh huh. And then we’ll watch a few episodes of _Wings_.”

She rolled her eyes. “I knew there was a catch.”

So, she gave him a cupcake and revealed a single candle she had been hiding in her purse. She sang off-key to him and he blew out the candle, wishing selfishly for her to never leave him. She took a dollop of frosting and mashed it onto his chin. The challenge accepted, he chased her around the apartment and eventually caught her around the waist. He tossed her onto the bed and held her down while he wiped the frosting off on her cheek and then promptly licked it off, all while she squealed and writhed in delight. They never got around to watching his show, but he did right a wrong from the morning by camping out between her legs until her body trembled with her release.

It was his birthday, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next chapter...
> 
> Rebecca Has a Dark Day
> 
> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace


	3. Rebecca Has a Dark Day.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca finds out some news about her father that sends her into an anxiety spiral, threatening to undo all the progress she’s made since her suicide attempt.
> 
>  **Trigger Warning:** For self-harm. There are NO descriptions of self-harm, but it is mentioned.
> 
> The idea for the event that sets off this chapter was lovingly stolen (with permission) from fellow R/N author _softnow_. Go read her stuff! It's amazing!

 

To say the relationship between Rebecca and her mother, Naomi, was strained would be the understatement of the century. Sure, they still spoke on the phone and texted occasionally. The issue wasn’t a lack of communication. The issue was that neither of them would bring up the elephant in the room.

Her suicide attempt.

Oh, and the fact her mother drugged her without her consent. Minor technicalities.

And, like her mother, Rebecca was stubborn.She refused to be the one who broached the topic first. In her mind, Naomi owed her an apology. Therefore, she must be the one to speak first. But until then, their phone calls were perfunctory. Without context, their conversations may even seem normal to an unknowing eavesdropper.

_Did you hear about the Shapiros’ son? In Washington Heights? The doctor? The one I tried to set you up with before you up-ended your life? He’s engaged._

_I wish you would come home for Hanukkah this year. I bought this kitschy menorah on sale at the end of the season last year. You’ll hate it._

_Did you hear Audra’s trying to get pregnant? Don’t worry about how I know. I know things._

Dr. Akopian encouraged Rebecca to engage deeper with her mother, finally discuss the unmentionable topic. But Rebecca kept putting it off, insisting that she was the child in the situation. Why did she have to be the bigger person?

On a Saturday morning, Rebecca luxuriated in bed, relishing the opportunity to sleep in late. She had stirred around 7am, checked the time, and promptly let herself fall back to sleep. But a few hours later, a strong vibration from her phone disturbed her blissful slumber. She rolled over with a groan and picked up her phone. It was a text from her mother.

_Just so you know, that WHORE your father just married is having a baby. I KNEW it was a shotgun wedding. It’s a girl. I could kill him. What does he think he’s doing, having another baby at his age? Good riddance._

She read the text several times. This couldn’t be right. Her father. A baby? A baby.

A daughter.

All at once it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. She dropped the phone onto the bed and a choking sound escaped from her throat. Her heart raced as she tried to gulp air into her lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Staring at the ceiling, she wheezed, her hand automatically coming to clutch her chest, over her heart. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her breathing, which was coming in quick, short bursts.

Come on, Rebecca. Breathe. 1...2...3…

An image flashed behind her eyes of her father with a little girl in his lap, with bouncy blonde hair, his eyes shining with his love for her.

Her chest tightened. Her stomach dropped. The ground disappeared beneath her and she was falling, falling, falling. Except there was nothing to grab onto, nothing to keep her afloat.

Hurt. Disappointment. Anger. Jealousy. Red, hot jealousy. Searing, blinding pain.

She pulled the blankets over her head and curled into a fetal position. But it didn’t last long because the blankets bottled up all the heat in the room and it suffocated her. She threw the blankets off and got out of bed.

Her father had replaced her mother with his hip, young wife. And now she was being replaced. He had his own little family. A better family. A normal family.

“Ugh!” she let out a frustrated sob. Like a caged animal, she paced back and forth, balling her hands into fists so hard her fingernails left little indentations in her palm. She wanted to hit something, throw something, do _something_ to release the pain she was feeling. Would she lose her security deposit if she punched a hole in the wall?

Suddenly she stopped pacing. Wait. Was it still there? She walked over to the night table and opened the bottom drawer. It was there. A razor blade. Shiny, unused. She placed it in her palm and stared at it for several seconds. It would be so easy. Her entire being longed for the relief it could bring.

Shaking her head, she slammed it on top of the night table and backed away.

No. No. No.

Nope. No, she wasn’t going to do that. She walked to the other side of the room, distancing herself from the object but never taking her eyes off of it. Why did she even keep it? It had been years since she had done anything like that.

_In case of emergency, open drawer._

No, she wasn’t that person anymore. She didn’t need that anymore.

Maybe there was more air in the kitchen. Like a tornado, she flew out of her bedroom and banged the door closed behind her. Heather was in the kitchen, grazing on a piece of toast. She jumped when the door hit the frame.

“Hey roomie,” she ventured tentatively, taking in Rebecca’s disheveled appearance and solemn facial expression.

Rebecca sat across from Heather and she simply stared back at her, her eyes wide.

“Hey, I don’t want to discuss it but I need you to just sit here across from me and not let me go back into my bedroom until I calm down.” Rebecca clasped her hands in front of her, her knuckles white from her grip.

“Ok…want some toast?”

Heather slid her plate across the table and Rebecca picked up the uneaten half, which was adorned with peanut butter. She ate it, but tasted nothing.

“So, what’s going on with you, Heather? Please, please tell me everything. Right now. Right now. Tell me.”

“Maybe you should call Dr. Akopian if you don’t want to talk to me about whatever’s going on right now,” Heather suggested.

“Heather!” she protested a little too loudly. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I don’t need Dr. Akopian. Because I have learned coping skills and I can handle things on my own. I can’t go running to my therapist every time I’m having a bad day.”

“It’s just you’re like panting and sweating and have crazy eyes right now…”

Rebecca cut her off, “I’m fine. I swear. Just tell me what’s going on with you.”

Heather swallowed. “Um, well, I’m killing it at my new job.”

Rebecca put her hands over her face. “Ugh, why is he doing this?!”

Heather winced, taken aback by the outburst. “Oooh, man problems? Problems with Mr. Suit?”

“What? No. It’s my garbage father. He’s having a _baby_. Can you believe it?”

“Wait, he’s having a kid? Ew, how old is he?”

“I shouldn’t care about this! Why do I care?”

“Maybe you should…”

Rebecca threw up her hands and pushed away from the table. “No, you know what, I do not care.” She put her pointer finger in the air. “I am choosing not to care. I don’t care about him and his young wife and his new daughter. I am an adult woman, who has her own life. See? I’m fine. I don’t care.” Rebecca shrugged.

“Um…”

“I am just going to go back to bed, because I am not going to do this. I am an adult woman who had a long week at work. And I’m tired. And I need more sleep. So I will see you later.”

“Wait, I thought you said…”

As abruptly as she entered the room, she left, closing the door behind her before Heather could finish her thought. Rebecca collapsed back onto the bed. Facing away from the door, she spooned a pillow and buried her face in it.

Since the wedding, she had had no contact with her father. He was irrelevant. He tried to use her for her money. He was just factually a terrible human being.

Then why did this hurt so deeply?

Because she was replaceable. She wasn’t good enough. If her own father didn’t love her, how could anyone else? No one had ever really loved her. Everyone was probably just tolerating her until they could replace her with someone better.

Her 11th birthday party. _Good luck, kiddo. I gotta get out of here._

Breathe. 1...2...3…

Deep, stabbing pain in her chest. It felt like someone reached inside her chest and wrapped their fingers around her heart and squeezed. Was she having a heart attack? Oh god, what if she was having a heart attack? Her arm wasn’t numb. But her heart was racing and her brow felt damp with sweat.

Why was it so hot? Unbelievably, excruciating hot. Maybe she was going to pass out. She clutched the pillow tighter. Her thoughts drifted back to the razor. Even though she wasn’t facing it, she knew it was still sitting there on the night table. Waiting for her. It would re-focus her attention. Snap her out of it.

No. No. No.

Breathe. 1...2...3…

Her wedding. _You’re crazy._

Lost in a tailspin of looping thoughts, she had no idea how much time passed when she heard Nathaniel’s voice outside the door. She heard his muffled voice, conferring with Heather. In her mind’s eye she could imagine what they were probably saying.

_What’s wrong with Rebecca?_

_Is she acting out again? Inconveniencing everyone, as usual?_

_Why can’t she just be normal?_

She looked at her phone for the hundredth time, reading the text again. She moaned in agony. Please don’t let him in here. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

“Rebecca -” she heard him say, softly rapping at her door.

“Go away,” she said as sternly as she could muster, but her voice came out too softly for him to hear.

The door cracked open and Nathaniel slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind him. Rebecca didn’t move, didn’t face him, and continued to stare at the wall.

“Heather told me what happened.”

“Why are you here? Did she call you?”

Nathaniel was quiet for a moment and then reminded her, “We had plans tonight. Remember, we were going to make dinner?”

Oh right. It was their six-month anniversary. They made plans for a romantic night in, even after agreeing that it was a silly milestone to celebrate.

“Well, this is obviously not a good time for me. Go home and leave me alone.”

She felt the bed dip as he sat down behind her. “Your dad is an asshole, Rebecca. I’m sorry.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. Somehow his words both comforted and frustrated her at the same time. How would he know anyway? How could he possibly understand?

Oh wait. He did know. Nathaniel was the sole reason her father attended her wedding. He was at the engagement party when she fawned all over her father the entire night. He witnessed her meltdown over Josh’s abandonment. He stood up to her father, had her back right when she needed it.

She focused on the sound of his breathing, which was the only thing that felt steady in the world.

“He’s replacing me,” she finally said, her voice small and distant. “I wasn’t good enough.”

Nathaniel sighed, “I’m sorry.” He reached out and touched her arm and she flinched.

It was like her heart had been split open, exposing two raw, broken halves. One half wanted to go to him and melt into his arms and let him soothe her. The other wanted to scream and yell and push him away.

“Don’t touch me. Just leave. You’re going to leave me someday anyway. Better now before I get more invested.”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t promise that.”

His voice was soft, but firm, unwavering in his reassurance. “I can promise I’ll never do what your dad did. And what Josh did. I told you before, I’ll never blindside you. Never.”

“You’re going to leave me just like everyone else. Because I’m unloveable. No one ever truly loved me. Not Josh, not Robert. Not even my own father,” she snapped, her voice becoming shrill and full of anguish.

He let out quick exhale. “Rebecca, my god, everyone in this town loves you. When you were on leave from work, everyone practically fell apart.” He paused and murmured, “And you know I love you.”

“No you don’t,” she croaked.

“What? Why?”

“You said it during sex. And then never again. You love _having sex with me_. You don’t love me.”

He went quiet for a moment. “I meant it when I said it. And I haven’t said it again because I thought you didn’t want me to.”

“Well, I didn’t say it back so maybe you should just _take the hint_.”

She heard him inhale sharply and his weight shifted on the bed.

Not wanting to linger in the moment and be forced to acknowledge the hurt she just caused, she plowed on, “Someday you’re going to leave me. I’ll say something or do something wrong. Or you’ll finally realize that I am crazy. Or you’ll get sick of dealing with me and want to be with someone normal. Or you’ll introduce me to your parents and your daddy will tell you to break up with me and you’ll do it because deep down _you’re weak_.”

As the words left her mouth, she felt an immediate, deep pang of guilt in her gut. Good luck loving her now. Her body tensed, waiting for his reaction. Waiting for him to leave her forever. Who could blame him? She was grateful he couldn’t see her face because, if he did, he would see the naked, abject fear in her eyes.

But instead of leaving, he lay down on the bed, his head coming to rest on her pillow, his body so close that if she inhaled deeply they would touch. She could smell his comforting scent and feel his breath on the back of her neck.

“I love you, Rebecca. And I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here.”

This was not how it’s supposed to go. And it broke her. She shook her head and silent tears started streaming down her face. “No, no, no, you don’t. I hate you,” she cried, choking on her words. Her chest heaved and she let out staccato sob.

He whispered, “Can I please touch you now?”

Rebecca released the pillow to fall unceremoniously onto the floor and rolled over to finally face him. Avoiding his eyes, she immediately buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s ok,” he consoled and slid one arm under their shared pillow and the other tugged at her lower back, pulling her close. He slung his leg over her hip protectively, completely enveloping her with his body. For a moment she kept her arms in front of her chest and they mashed up uncomfortably between their bodies. But when she finally let go, sobbing openly into his neck, she wrapped them around his waist, clinging desperately to him.

“I hate him,” she wept.

Nathaniel rubbed her back.

“I don’t want to care. Why do I care?”

“It’s ok.”

They lay together for a long time, until her tears subsided and her breathing returned to normal. At some point she realized that her heart had stopped racing and she could finally breathe. Maybe she wouldn’t die of a heart attack after all.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered into his neck.

“I know.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

When there were no more tears left to shed, she was depleted, drained of all energy. Her limbs felt heavy, like her whole body was melting. It was a struggle to even keep her eyes open. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stayed with her until she fell asleep.

*****

When she woke, she was alone, her bedroom cold and empty. Instead of Nathaniel’s solid chest anchoring her, the blankets were bunched up, balled in her arms. He promised he wouldn’t leave. Did she merely imagine he was there? Did she have a dissociative episode?

She sat up and looked around her bedroom. Bright light was creeping underneath the door frame. Her phone was missing. The razor was gone.

The sound of Nathaniel’s laugh drifted into the room. She sighed with relief. He didn’t leave. She didn’t imagine it. The faint smell of garlic hung in the air. Then she heard Heather’s distinctive timbre coming from the kitchen. Curiosity was enough to get her out of bed and to her closet. Having been in her pajamas for almost twenty-four hours, she decided to change into a blue, soft t-shirt dress. She took a moment to wipe under her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t look like a rumpled mess.

When she opened the door, Nathaniel and Heather were both in the kitchen, huddled over the stove, their backs to her. She squinted at the bright lighting of the room.

“I just assumed you would know how to cook,” Heather was saying, her voice filled with uncharacteristic mirth. “You seem all adulty and stuff.”

When Rebecca opened the door, they both stopped talking and turned to her.

She crossed her arms. “Uh, carry on. Don’t let me interrupt. What are you making?”

Nathaniel smiled softly at her return. “I was attempting to make chicken cacciatore with garlic bread. Hopefully that’s what ends up coming out.”

He and Heather shared a laugh. Heather pointed at Nathaniel, “I think I like him now. And on a related note, I think the baby likes carbs.” She rubbed her newly burgeoning baby bump.

“Good, good.” It filled her with relief that Nathaniel and Heather were not drawing attention to her breakdown.

When Heather excused herself to the bathroom, Rebecca approached the stove to take a peek at their progress.

“Hey, sunshine,” he murmured and leaned down to lightly kiss her lips.

“Hi.”

“Hope you’re hungry.” He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, earning him a smile.

“Starving. Having a total emotional meltdown really makes you work up an appetite, you know?” Her eyes drifted to the kitchen counter. “Wait, is that Boggle?”

“Yea. I am really good at Boggle and I thought I’d impress you with my Boggle prowess tonight.”

Her face lit up. “I love Boggle! And I’ll have you know I am excellent at all word games, so bring it on, Plimpton.”

“You’re on, but I’m going to win. I don’t go easy on anyone, even my girlfriend. So you can’t say I didn’t warn you,” he boasted, then turned his attention back to the stove. “I invited Heather to join us for dinner. I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course.” She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, squeezing hard. “I never get to be the big spoon,” she mumbled into his back and his laughter reverberated against her cheek.

*****

“So, as I tried to tell you earlier, I’m really nailing this new job. I’ve been making a lot of improvements to the menu and stuff. Oh, and I’m going to completely redesign the interior,” Heather recounted as she ate piece after piece of garlic bread.

“That’s great,” Rebecca acknowledged, trying hard to pay attention to make up for her earlier lack of interest.

“Plus, I have a cute boyfriend now. Which is going great except he’s always late for everything and it’s annoying.”

“Oh, that’s so Hector,” Rebecca enthusiastically agreed.

Heather furrowed her brow. “Uh, sure. Also, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Darryl, you know, for doctor’s appointments and stuff.” She addressed Nathaniel, “I think he misses WhiJo.”

“I know I shouldn’t get involved, but I think the whole reason he went to the desert was to get over Darryl,” Nathaniel confirmed.

Rebecca got a dreamy look in her eyes. “I always imagined they would be the one couple to really make it, you know? Have a beautiful, but tasteful wedding with little Madison as the flower girl.” She sighed.

“Actually, speaking of weddings,” Nathaniel transitioned, clearing his throat, “there’s this wedding I got invited to. I thought you could come with me.”

“Really, thanks man,” Heather joked.

Ignoring Heather, Rebecca beamed. “Of course I will! Whose wedding is it?”

“My freshman roommate from Stanford who I was paired randomly with when I started undergrad. We’re not super close, but we’ve stayed in touch. He’s still living up there, got a job in Silicon Valley, so it’ll be a bit of a drive.”

“That’s fine! I’m there. It’s guaranteed to be better than the last two weddings I went to. Trust me.”

*****

“...tails, plane, spare, singer…”

“Stop it.”

“...grains, strap, liners, spinal…”

“No!”

“...trainer, planter, splinter, and painters.”

“You cheated! I don’t know how, but you cheated!” she squealed.

Nathaniel and Rebecca sat on the floor around the coffee table, Nathaniel’s back against the couch. Heather had retired to her room after dinner to give them some privacy.

He held up a finger. “I am not cheating. I am good at Boggle and I warned you.”

“I cannot believe this! I never lose,” she practically shouted. She slammed her pad of paper down on the table in frustration. Raising a smug, self-satisfied eyebrow, he touched the pencil lightly to the tip of his tongue and then touched it to his paper.

“Stop adding up your points. I get it.”

He continued to tally, grinning but pretending to ignore her.

“I said stop!” Rebecca crawled on her knees over to him and grabbed for his pencil. He moved it out of her reach and she giggled, pulling at his bicep.

“I want to know how much I beat you by, Miss Harvard,” he chuckled. When it was clear she wasn’t going to get the pencil away from him, she changed tactics. She climbed fully into his lap, straddling him, and grabbed his face, kissing him passionately. The effect was immediate. Nathaniel lowered his hands to rest on her waist and leaned into the kiss. She pulled at the back of his neck and pressed her chest against him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. With no hesitation, he returned her kiss with the same fervent energy.

After a few moments, Rebecca broke away, grabbing both his pad of paper from the coffee table and the pencil from his hand, throwing them across the room. She cackled and he grinned back, dumbstruck.

“Oh my god, I cannot believe I fell for that.”

She played with the hairs on the back of his head. “You always fall for my feminine charms. One of the weaknesses of your kind,” she teased.

“Weakness?” He blew a raspberry with his lips. “Stop trying to distract from the fact that you lost to a Stanford man.”

She groaned and tilted her head back, not wanting to look him in the eyes when she admitted it. “Fine, you won.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” He leaned forward and nipped at her neck and she squirmed in response.

What had she done to deserve this man? To deserve his patience and understanding? After all the horrible things she said to him, why was he still here? She tried to imagine Josh or Greg or Robert sticking around the way he did today. She couldn’t.

“Hey,” she said, a bit more serious, “I know we decided it was dumb, but happy six months.”

“You too,” he replied, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“I’m sorry for today.”

“I don’t want you to apologize for anything,” he soothed, his thumbs stroking either side of her waist.

“No, I shouldn’t have said those horrible things. You don’t deserve that.” Her eyes cast downward, focusing on his collarbone. “And thank you for staying. For not giving up on me.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” he reassured her.

“I like being stuck with you.”

In her periphery, Rebecca noticed a small, blue gift bag with white ribbon sitting by the front door. Attached to the bag was a gift tag with her name printed in Nathaniel’s messy handwriting. She stood from his lap excitedly and rushed over to the door. “Did you get me a gift? Nathaniel, oh my gosh,” she gushed.

Quickly, Nathaniel leapt to his feet and tried to intercept her before she picked up the gift. “Wait hold on,” he protested. But she was already tearing away the paper.

She pulled out a small, black box. “Oooh, what is this?”

“Rebecca, stop. I don’t think -”

She opened the box. A silver key lay in the black, cushy padding inside the box.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a key to my apartment. It was supposed to be kind of symbolic. I’m sorry if it’s too much for today. I didn’t -”

“No, no, this is really sweet,” she cooed, picking up the key and running her fingers over it.

“With the whole six months thing, I wanted to do something. I’m not trying to push but I wanted to show you...how I feel. Is this ok?”

She cupped his cheek. “This is a really lovely gesture. I’ve always wanted someone to give me a key to their apartment.”

“You know, if you’re ever feeling...how you felt today...and you need to get away, need a change of scenery, you can come over. Even if I’m not there.”

_In case of emergency, use key._

“Thank you.”

“And you can always call me. Or text. I’m just trying to say, I don’t want you to feel that way...alone. Or ever. So, if you need me,” he rambled.

She put her finger over his lips. “I get it. Thank you.”

*****

After Rebecca forced Nathaniel to play a game of Scrabble for her revenge (she won, the tipping point being a strategically played “ZA” for a whopping 62 points), they settled into bed for the night. Instead of cuddling up to her like he usually did, he rolled over, turning his back to her.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I thought you wanted to be the big spoon.”

Grinning, she scooted over and wrapped her arm around him, tucking her legs behind his. She shifted her body several times to try to fit with his, but nothing felt comfortable. After a few moments, she couldn’t help but break into laughter. “I take it back! This is terrible. You’re too big. I can’t even get my arm around.”

“I hate it,” he concurred and turned back around to face her. They switched back to their usual position, Nathaniel spooning her with his nose securely nestled in her hair.

Home sweet home.

He sighed, “This is better.”

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed in agreement.

After a few minutes, she mumbled into the darkness, “I wasn’t going to do it, you know.”

Silence. She wondered if he was already asleep or didn’t hear. Or maybe he felt uncomfortable addressing it.

“I just want to keep you safe,” he finally said in a gravelly, tired voice.

Safe. If there was one word to describe how she felt in this moment, that would be it. There were a lot of flowery words she could use to describe her past relationships. Passionate. Dramatic. Intense. All-Consuming. But safe? Never. Not even close.

They weren’t perfect. They had ups and downs. But that one word meant so much more than any of the romance cliches she used to cling to. It was time for her to redefine the words she wanted to describe her relationship.

Supportive. Caring. Understanding. Steady.

She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed his palm.

Safe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _For Kayleigh, who's one tough little cookie._  
>  Stay tuned for the next chapter: Rebecca and Nathaniel Go to a Wedding!
> 
> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace
> 
> Drawing credit to: @notbang


	4. Rebecca and Nathaniel Go to a Wedding!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s wedding time! Bring on the fanfic cliches! Put on a fancy dress! Dance! Share your feelings…and a hotel room!

“Ten minutes!” Nathaniel called to Rebecca from just outside the bathroom door.

Her muffled voice fired back, “Don’t you dare come in here, Plimpton! You don’t want to see what women have to go through to get ready. You said three o’clock and I will be ready at three o’clock. Stop rushing me!”

Nathaniel slowly backed away from the door and switched his attention to the long mirror adjacent to the bathroom. Assessing himself with a stern eye, he straightened up his posture and slightly tweaked the angle of his bowtie. Almost satisfied, he leaned closer to the mirror and swooped his hair to the side.

The guest list was still a mystery, but he was bracing himself for a night with his highly competitive classmates. Now that he was managing arguably the least successful Plimpton, Plimpton, & Plimpton branch, he was mentally preparing a full-out defense of his current life choices. And the fact his girlfriend had a propensity to say anything and everything on her mind likely wouldn’t work in his favor.

That morning Nathaniel and Rebecca rose early to drive the five hours from West Covina to Los Gatos, a town nestled at the base of the Santa Cruz Mountains in Northern California. (The private jet was out-of-the-question, since his father would inevitably hear about Rebecca escorting Nathaniel to a non-work-related event.) While the early hour made her a little grumpy, she rallied after a coffee stop and entertained him with ongoing commentary and failed attempts at car games.

_Time to play 20 questions. Please! Come on! If you don’t play, then I’m going to turn on the soundtrack to Legally Blonde: The Musical and sing along. Ok, good. Is it an animal?_

_Let’s sing the Pi Song! Three point one-four-one-five-nine-two-six-five-three-five-nine… Why aren’t you singing?_

_Sequoia! Sequoia! Sequoia!_ (They were all redwoods.)

When they neared the hotel, Nathaniel gave Rebecca a short primer on the betrothed couple. His former roommate, Chris, and he were randomly paired together freshman year at Stanford. At first, they kept their distance, as each of them ran in vastly different social circles. Naturally, Nathaniel gravitated toward students with similar upbringings, namely his water polo teammates. Meanwhile, Chris settled in with a clique of fellow theater majors. However, once the inherent drama of Chris’s close-knit group started to exhaust him, he begged Nathaniel to bring him along on excursions with the water polo team. Nathaniel obliged and those wild nights led to a few unlikely friendships between Chris and Nathaniel’s teammates. Chris was always grateful for the social outlet to let loose and, in return, Chris kept Nathaniel’s penchant for Harry Potter and other decidedly uncool interests under wraps. Chris and Nathaniel more-or-less went their separate ways after graduation, but kept in contact through occasional texting and social media. Because Chris started dating the bride, Liz, after graduation, Nathaniel knew very little about her. She was a fellow Stanford alum, an Economics major, but they never crossed paths in school.

Nathaniel booked a weekend at the charming Los Gatos Hotel. He sprung for a suite with a fireplace and a two-person jacuzzi.. Maybe it was a bit of a waste for such a short stay, but he wanted to make the most of their first weekend away together. The decor was a little outdated, with a garish floral pattern bedspread, overly ruffled bed skirt, and faux Impressionist paintings on the wall. But the view from the balcony of the mountains and the surrounding redwood forests (not sequoias) was worth every penny.

Nathaniel donned his classic black tux, a staple in his wardrobe for such events. The dress code on the invitation was black tie _optional_ , but a Plimpton never passed up an opportunity to trot out a tux. When he wore it, he imagined he was James Bond or Humphrey Bogart or, his personal favorite, Frank Sinatra. It gave him that extra push of confidence he needed to deal with high pressure social situations.

With three minutes to spare, the bathroom door finally opened. Rebecca wore a curve-hugging, sapphire blue, floor-length gown. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline, showing enough cleavage to entice but not enough to be inappropriate. She left her hair down, her dark, loose curls spilling over her shoulders, and sported a deep crimson lip.

Nathaniel swallowed. “Wow.” His eyes slowly caressed her hourglass figure and his throat went dry. She was an absolute vision, a voluptuous goddess, her stunning eyes like oceans he could drown in. “You look gorgeous.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow.”

The corners of mouth quirked up. “You mentioned that. And I’ve still got,” she grabbed his wrist and checked his watch, “two minutes left.”

Wedding? What wedding?

In his mind, he was already kissing off her lipstick, burying his hands in her hair, and hiking up her dress to ravish her on the closest available surface. He grinned dumbly and pushed her hair to the side to nuzzle her neck. “Eh, we can be a little late.”

“No, honey, we have to go. You said three o’clock,” she admonished. He groaned as she pulled him out the door by the hand.

*****

The wedding venue was a thirty-minute drive on a continually narrowing winding road, which lead them deep into the heart of the lush, green mountains. Majestic redwoods blanketed the area, creating a canopy of shade that was punctuated by small rays of light where the sun’s beams broke through the trees. A stone pathway lead to the site of the ceremony - a small clearing in the forest. About a hundred white chairs were set up for the ceremony, with small bundles of wildflowers adorning the chairs lining the aisle. A wedding arch stood triumphantly at the edge of the clearing, decorated sparsely with white and purple flowers.

“Oh my god, this is beautiful,” Rebecca marveled as they claimed seats toward the middle. “Not what I expected at all, honestly” she admitted.

Nathaniel instinctively rested his arm across the back of her chair. “What were you expecting?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess some big, impersonal, ostentatious banquet hall or something.”

“Is that a dig at me?”

“Maybe,” she smirked. She rested back against his arm and gazed up at the tops of the enormous trees. “It’s so romantic,” she mused, starry-eyed, swept up by the idyllic setting. “Exactly what I would…” she started but caught herself. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she looked away, self-conscious.

He stroked her shoulder with the pad of his thumb. “It’s really nice,” he agreed.

Soon, the rest of the chairs filled up and Chris took his place next to the wedding arch. He surveyed the crowd and waved at guests he recognized, a goofy grin plastered across his face. Rebecca leaned toward Nathaniel and cooed, “Aw, look at him. So happy. They say to look at the groom instead of the bride when she walks down the aisle.”

The wedding processional was short, with only one person standing up on each side. Then, Liz appeared on the stone path, wearing an elegant but simple lace dress, accompanied by her mother and father. The joyful smile she wore traveled all the way up to her eyes and scrunched up her nose. As Rebecca advised, Nathaniel turned to watch Chris. He had a hand clapped over his mouth and tears in his eyes. She was right. Nathaniel was not one to get sentimental, but he couldn’t help the infectious joy he felt seeing his friend so happy. (Though, he had to admit he was getting more and more sentimental these days, and it had everything to do with the woman standing next to him.)

The ceremony was short and sweet, non-religious. The couple seemed surprisingly at ease for having two hundred eyes on them, making the biggest commitment of their lives. They wrote their own vows and Nathaniel couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Liz proclaimed she “promised not to make everything into a spreadsheet”, but it earned an appreciative smattering of laughter from the attendees. While Chris read his vows, Rebecca put her hand gently on his knee in a seemingly unconscious gesture. There were tears in her eyes and she bit her lip, very clearly trying to hold back her emotions.

He had to wonder if her response was from the vows or if she was thinking about her own wedding. (After all, she didn’t even know the bride and groom.) Did she and Josh write their own vows? Did they plan a honeymoon? The thoughts swirled around in his head. Yes, they had planned a whole life together. If Josh hadn’t left her at the altar, she would have declared her undying love for him and rode off into the sunset. Without knowing it at the time, he had been a hair’s breadth away from never experiencing any of the last seven months with her. He tightened his arm around her shoulders.

When the ceremony ended, and the couple recessed down the aisle, again he noticed Rebecca’s face tensing, trying (and failing) to hide her reaction. As they walked out of the clearing, huddled in a mass of wedding guests, she wiped her eyes and muttered, “Weddings always get me. Sorry.”

*****

The party moved indoors to a renovated barn, which was all glass and fir wood. The high, steep-pitched ceiling was supported by towering wooden columns. A multitude of white, twinkling lights were strung between the columns, casting the whole room in a warm glow. Long, narrow tables flanked either side of the barn, the middle cleared for dancing. Each table was embellished with a burlap runner and wildflowers in short vases. Just outside the formal dining area, a smaller room hosted the cocktail hour. The bar was tucked away in what used to be the barn’s silo.

“Champagne?” Nathaniel offered as they approached a high-top table.

“You know it,” she confirmed.

On Nathaniel’s way to the bar, he was intercepted by one of his former teammates, who was sipping a craft beer, lingering near the bar.

“If it isn’t Pimpin’ Plimpton! How the hell are you?”

He chuckled at the old nickname. “Oh hey, Adam. Good to see you.” They shook hands amicably.

“What have you been up to? Ever since you moved you’ve been totally MIA!”

“Yea, I know. I’ve been running that firm for my dad, trying to get it on the map.”

“Sure, sure,” Adam said, his eyes wandering, not really listening. “Hey, I was just scoping out the potential ladies for the night,” Adam leered, wiggling his eyebrows and gesturing into the sea of guests. “At weddings all the chicks are horny as hell.”

Nathaniel scoffed, “Come on, how old are we?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably.

“Oh please. Like you’re not getting in on this? Ok, look at her.” Adam pointed out a leggy blonde woman in a red, lace cocktail dress. “She’s been eye-fucking me the past ten minutes. Once she sees my dance moves, it’s practically a done deal.”

“Ok, sure,” he laughed, playing along.

But Adam wasn’t done yet, still scanning the crowd. “Or wait, how about her?” Adam gestured with his beer toward Rebecca, who was still waiting for Nathaniel to return with their drinks. “Nice tits. Chunkier than I like, but her lips look good for…”

“Whoa! Ok, hey, that’s my girlfriend,” Nathaniel blurted out while clapping his hands together.

Adam’s mouth fell open. “What?”

Nathaniel nodded, biting his lip.

“Wait, the chick in the blue? And, girlfriend? Seriously? What happened to you, Plimpton?”

His feathers sufficiently ruffled, he snapped back, “Yes, her. She’s my girlfriend. So maybe you could stop being _disgusting_ and talking about her tits for two seconds? I mean, are you really still doing this shit? We’re in our thirties.”

“Dude, I’m sorry! I didn’t know she was your girlfriend, ok?” Adam apologized and looked down at his beer sheepishly.

Nathaniel sighed. “I’ll catch up with you later.” In a huff, he brushed past Adam to complete his journey to the bar.

When he rejoined Rebecca, with two flutes of champagne, he tried to reset his face to neutral. “Sorry about that, ran in a friend.”

“Oh! Can I meet him? Or her?”

“Later. I’m sure he’ll be at our table.”

“Oh good, I’m dying to hear some stories about the old Nathaniel!”

Nathaniel swallowed. He wasn’t sure the old Nathaniel was someone he wanted her to know. Hearing Adam’s crass assessment of Rebecca made his stomach roil and not just because he was protective of Rebecca. It was also a stark reflection of how he used to be. There was a reason Rebecca disliked him when they first met. He was arrogant, smug, cold, bordering-on-sexist. Sure, it was mostly a facade to assert his dominance at work, or impress his friends, but that didn’t magically erase how he once acted.

Thankfully, Rebecca didn’t see him that way anymore. To her, he was a caring, thoughtful boyfriend, and he would do anything to keep it that way. He would never forget her face, how she looked at him, when he brought her the roses. So touched by his effort, by his openness, by his willingness to be vulnerable. The man reflected back to him in her soft, blue eyes, _that_ was the man he wanted to be. Not just for her but for himself. And from that moment on, he decided that was the man he would strive to be.

After cocktail hour, they found their place cards to be seated at Table 6. As expected, Adam joined their table and Nathaniel introduced Rebecca as cordially as he could muster, though his protective haunches were up and at the ready. Adam was awkward but respectful under Nathaniel’s watchful eye.

What he didn’t expect, however, was the couple who approached the table next.

Nathaniel’s eyes went wide. “Mona?” He stood up too quickly, jostling his place setting, the silverware clattering against the table.

Mona wore a black, strapless gown, her chocolate brown hair in a sleek updo. Her husband, Matthew, trailed behind her.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Hi. How...how do you know Chris?”

“I don’t. Liz and I were both Econ majors. Had a bunch of classes together.”

Of course. Mona’s eyes darted to Rebecca, who was now also standing with her hands clasped together tightly in front of her.

“Sorry, this is Rebecca,” he introduced, though, of course, Mona already knew way more about Rebecca than he cared to admit. “Mona dated one of my teammates at school back in the day,” he explained. Mona and Rebecca shook hands, but Rebecca avoided her eyes and remained surprisingly speechless through the whole exchange.

When they were all seated, Rebecca stared absently at her champagne flute, silent and dazed. Dinner commenced and Nathaniel attempted small talk with Mona and her husband. Though, small talk was a little difficult when he and Mona had already shared intensely intimate details about their relationships with each other. Usually he could rely on Rebecca to carry most conversations with her charm and naturally bubbly personality, but she was noticeably quiet throughout dinner.

When they were almost finished, he checked in with her again. “Hey, what's going on?"

She abruptly stood, attracting the attention of the entire table. “I’ll be right back. I have to hit the ladies...room! I’m not a football player.” She let out a forced laugh and rushed toward the bathroom.

Mona raised her eyebrows. “Well, that was inappropriate.”

Just as Nathaniel placed his napkin on the table, intending to follow Rebecca, the newly wedded couple approached the table.

“Hey everyone, meet _my wife_ ,” Chris proclaimed.

“Congratulations.” Nathaniel shook his hand enthusiastically and then greeted Liz. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“You must be hot-shot lawyer roommate. Love it. Thanks for coming!”

Chris moved on to greet the rest of the table so Nathaniel went on, “The ceremony was really nice. And you two seem so relaxed. I’m impressed.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “We got married last week at the courthouse in San Jose. But our families don’t know, so shhh.”

“Huh?”

“The wedding planning was really stressing me out, between the millions of little decisions and my divorced parents making everything difficult.” She gave him an exaggerated eye roll. “So we got married legally in secret. For whatever reason, it made us feel very zen, like the pressure was off.” Her eyes flitted to Chris. “Anyway, I have to mingle, so it was great meeting you!”

“You too. Congrats again.”

When the couple moved on to the next table, Mona approached Nathaniel. “What going on with Rebecca? Did you tell her I’m in the group? You’re not supposed to do that.”

“What? No, no. She doesn’t know anything about it.”

“Really? Well, she was pretty rude during dinner. She barely even spoke to us. Plus, what was up with that off-color joke? She doesn’t exactly fit in with us, does she?”

Nathaniel’s brow furrowed, mildly offended by her judgmental tone. Of all people, he would expect some support from her. “Yea, well, maybe that’s a good thing,” he retorted.

*****

Rebecca finally returned to the table just as Chris and Liz’s first dance was ending. “Hey, sorry,” she whispered. “I, um, Paula called me. So I had to take it. There’s a whole thing with her kid, but everything’s fine now.”

“Ok, sure.” She wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he didn’t want to press the issue. At least now she seemed more relaxed. “The dance floor is opening up. What do you say?”

“I say you better bring it.”

He rose from his chair and extended a hand to her. “Oh,” she gushed and put a hand over her heart. She grinned and took his hand, letting him guide her to the dance floor just as _It Had to Be You_ started playing. (The Harry Connick, Jr. version. But Nathaniel would let it slide.)

Putting a hand on her lower back, he pulled her close and took her other hand in his. As they began to sway, he asked, “Have I mentioned you look beautiful this evening?” His gaze momentarily darted down to her chest.

“Eyes up here, Plimpton. I see where you’re looking.”

“Oh, my eyes are always there. You just don’t always catch me.”

She cackled in response. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?” Changing the subject, she said, softly, “Hey, so I decided I’m going to go home for Hanukkah after all. Try to talk to my mom about...what happened.”

“Oh?”

“Dr. Akopian finally wore me down,” she explained.

“Ok. When is that?”

She smirked, likely at his perpetual lack of knowledge about all-things Jewish. “This year it begins on the 24th. So I would probably go to New York around that time.”

“Oh.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I know we talked about going to your family’s party and everything. But maybe it’s for the best anyway. We don’t know how your dad will react with -”

“No, it’s fine. That party is stuffy and boring anyway. You would hate it. I always end up drinking an obscene amount of scotch and then passing out anyway. You should be with your mom. I know it’s important.”

“Thanks, honey.” She squeezed his hand and they swayed in companionable silence.

Chris and Liz joined the dance floor and Nathaniel noticed Rebecca watching them, her expression soft and dreamy.

He rubbed her back with his thumb. Clearing his throat he ventured to ask, “Is that...something you want?”

Her head whipped back to him. “Huh?”

He nodded toward the couple. “You know, um, getting married. Is that...are you...” When she didn’t answer right away, still stunned by the question, he felt warm and panicky. “You’ve been a little off tonight. I wasn’t sure if it’s because of Josh and the wedding…”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. Yes, that...makes sense. Yes, that’s it. You’re right. Just a lot of feelings.” After a beat she continued, “Wait, do _you_ want to get married? If I remember correctly, you had a less-than-desirable reaction to my engagement. I recall the word shackled being used.”

He looked up at the ceiling, embarrassed. “Ok, I may have overreacted a bit.” When he glanced back at her, she was watching his face intently, waiting for a real answer. “Um, honestly, I’ve been so focused on my career I haven’t thought much about it.” Whether she intended it or not, her face faltered just a bit, a micro-expression of disappointment flashing across her features. “But...I think someday, yes. Yes, I do. Want to.”

Her lips quirked up, pleasantly surprised. “Me too. Someday. Though, to be honest, it will take a lot of trust for me to put myself out there again.”

He nodded, understanding. They shared shy smiles, and he tugged her a little closer as _The Way You Look Tonight_ began to play. (The Frank Sinatra version. As it should be.)

As the dulcet notes of the piano filled the air, the couples surrounding them slowed. He leaned down, intending to kiss her, but she stopped him. “Hey, hey, hey. Makeup.” He let out an exaggerated sigh and she smirked in response. As they slowly rocked back and forth, she rested her head on his chest, which filled him with an almost suffocating affection for her.

“ _Someday, when I’m awfully low_ ,” he began to sing softly to her, “ _and the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight_.” She smiled and closed her eyes, listening closely to his voice. As he sang, he let the rest of the world fall away. He didn’t care where he was or who might be watching or how terribly off-key he probably was. All he cared about was the feeling of her in his arms and how content she looked, resting peacefully against his chest.

“ _With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fears apart. And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, touches my foolish heart._ ” He moved her hand so it rested over his heart.

When the song reached its final measures, she lifted her head and murmured, “Somehow you managed to make me emotional, yet extremely turned on at the same time.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Really?” He released her hand and encircled her waist with both of his. He dropped his head down to her ear. “Oh baby,” he whispered, “someday I’m going to marry the shit out of you.”

She giggled softly and it was like music. “Oh yea. Hot.”

“We’re going to make a guest list and pick out flowers and meet with caterers... _all night long_.”

“God, I’m sweating,” she murmured and stroked the back of his neck with her fingers.

“I haven’t even mentioned the best part,” he murmured against her ear.

“What?” she breathed.

His voice dropped an octave. “Our parents aren’t invited.”

“Oh, fuck. You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

The song ended and _Call Me Maybe_ suddenly flooded the speakers. The couples around them broke apart and started dancing to the upbeat tempo. “That was abrupt,” Nathaniel remarked.

Rebecca moved out of his embrace and tugged at one of his hands. “Follow me.” She lead him away from the dance floor and toward the exit of the barn. With a sly smile, she opened a door labeled _Dressing Room_ that was adjacent to the restrooms. She stuck her head in for a moment and then dragged him in behind her.

The room had two large vanities, each touting a large mirror surrounded with bright light bulbs. Clothes, makeup, curling irons, and half-packed bags were strewn about the room. They stumbled over the threshold and she quickly locked the door behind them. She pulled at the lapels of his jacket and walked backward up to one of the vanities, her intent crystal clear. He took the hint and grabbed her ass, boosting her up onto the surface.

Nathaniel pushed up her dress so it was bunched up around her thighs. “Careful,” she warned, “I rented this dress.”

“Rented?”

“What, you think I have a bunch of gowns lying around?”

He tugged behind her knees to bring her to the edge of the table and peppered kisses from just above her cleavage to her jaw. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding herself steady, trying to balance. “Hmm...you’re so hot,” he murmured against her skin. He snuck his hands under her dress, his thumbs grazing the inside of her upper thighs. Making a soft whimpering sound, she moved her hips forward, searching for his fingers. One thing he loved about sex with Rebecca was how she always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it or just take it. And he was more than willing to oblige any and all of her desires.

His lips now just below her ear, he nudged her panties aside and slipped his finger inside her. She sighed in relief and rotated her hips against him. His eyes screwed shut and he groaned, savoring the feeling of her wet heat, imagining how it would feel gripped around him. He dragged his finger in and out of her and massaged her clit with his thumb, causing her to emit little gasps that ignited his arousal beyond measure. She threw her head back, hitting the mirror with a thud, and he immediately reached with his free hand to cradle the back of her head. “You ok?” he breathed, but she seemed oblivious to any discomfort, completely lost in her pleasure.

Her chest heaved rapidly and her mouth fell open. Jesus, she was getting close already. He slipped his fingers out of her and quickly started unbuttoning his pants.

Between breaths, she whispered, “Hurry. Please.” Leaning back against the mirror for leverage, she tried to wiggle out of her panties and failed. She whined with desperation.

“One second,” he soothed, as he pulled a condom out his pocket. Always prepared. You have to be when your girlfriend has a penchant for sex at unpredictable times and settings. (Not that he was complaining.) He shed his pants and boxers as quickly as he could and rolled the condom on.

When he was ready, he shoved her dress up a little further and roughly pulled her panties off. Without wasting a moment, he pushed inside her. She moaned and clawed at his back, trying to draw him closer. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. He pulled her closer to the edge and sank even deeper into her. He panted heavily and the words spilled out of him, “Love you. Sorry. I love you.”

Grabbing his face with both hands, she smashed their lips together and he kissed her greedily with everything he had.

In between kisses, he gasped, “Makeup?”

“Don’t care,” she huffed and continued to kiss him like it was her dying wish.

The table rattled, unsteady beneath them, and it became more and more difficult to balance as their pace quickened. Breaking their kiss, he lifted his head and caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror behind her. Oh yes. He drew back from her and her eyes snapped open, confused and outraged. He pulled her off the table, grabbed her waist, and turned her around.

Face-to-face with their reflections, she uttered, “Oh,” and raised one of her eyebrows.

“Uh huh,” he agreed and positioned himself behind her. She bent over, resting her forearms on the table and arching her back. As he pushed into her, he watched her face closely, relishing every detail of her reaction. Her eyes rolling up toward the ceiling. Her mouth dropping open. The hitch in her breath. Her fingers flexing, clawing the surface of the vanity.

When he set a slow rhythm, she found his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. Hers were aflame with desire, the bulbs creating small rings of light in her irises. For a moment his eyes drifted down to her breasts, which were practically spilling out of the dress. When his eyes returned to hers again, she was smirking. Caught again.

One of his shoulders raised in a half-shrugging gesture. Could she really blame him? “Look at how sexy you are,” he murmured and nodded his chin toward the mirror. Her eyes briefly left his to gaze at her own image. If only she could see herself the way he saw her.

He grazed his hand up her arm until he could thread their fingers together. He guided her hand underneath her dress and pressed it firmly against her clit. “Touch yourself,” he whispered. Hastening his pace, he felt a deep tightening in his core and a quickly accelerating lack of control. All the while, Rebecca stared at his mouth, watching his every expression as she touched herself.

Ah.

For her benefit (though, it was also a satisfying release of tension), he tipped his head back and groaned while firmly gripping her hips, “Rebecca.”

“Holy shit,” she cried as she started to ride the wave of her orgasm. Watching her raw reaction, so brightly lit he could see every detail of her face, was entirely too much. He came almost instantly, unable to long on any longer, even if he tried.

She rested her head against the glass, leaving behind a streak of sweat, and whispered, “Wow.”

After sneaking into their respective bathrooms and trying to make themselves presentable, Nathaniel and Rebecca re-joined the reception. His hair was still mussed, but he managed to get most of the lipstick off his face. Somehow, he mused, she managed to look even hotter than before, her chest flushed pink and her lips bruised from their kisses.

Across the room, Mona regarded them with disapproval, while Adam raised his eyebrows and nodded as if to say, “Told you so.”

He put a hand on the small of her back and asked, “Want to get out of here?”

“You sure? What about your friends?”

“There’s a jacuzzi in our room.”

“Let’s go.”

*****

Back in the hotel room, Nathaniel started up the jacuzzi and then raided the mini-fridge. The two mini bottles of Pinot Grigio would have to do, as it was the only wine they had. He poured the wine into two water tumblers and noticed Rebecca out on the balcony. He opened the sliding door and joined her.

“Nice view, huh?” he asked as he handed her a glass. The moon cast a bluish glow over the trees and the scent of the redwoods lingered faintly in the air.

“Amazing view. What should we toast to?” She held her her glass up and he lifted his as well.

“To the happy couple. And to me for having the hottest date and making everyone jealous.”

“I’ll take it,” she quipped. They clinked their glasses together and sipped.

Rebecca walked to the edge of the balcony and leaned on the railing. She sighed, “It really is beautiful, isn’t it? It makes me want to be a more outdoorsy person. Though I hate camping and hiking and bugs and…”

She turned back to Nathaniel and he was kneeling. Not just kneeling. On one knee.

He reached out and took one of her hands in his. “Rebecca,” he said softly.

Her jaw dropped and she blinked several times, disbelieving. “Oh my god.”

“Rebecca...you dropped your earring,” he said in the same reverent tone, placing an earring in her palm.

Exhaling sharply, she shouted, “You dick!”

He got up from his knees. “I had you,” he laughed, pleased with himself.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I had you big time.”

“You had nothing!” she squealed.

He cupped her chin and kissed her sweetly, and she pushed him away in protest. “Alright, alright. Get that stupid tux off and get in the water before I murder you.”

“I love you,” he sang and stole another kiss on her cheek.

“That jacuzzi better have jets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next chapter...
> 
> "Rebecca Goes Home for the Holidays."
> 
> I have something a little special planned for the next chapter.
> 
> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace


	5. Rebecca and Nathaniel Go Home for the Holidays!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca goes home to New York for Hanukkah to reconcile with her mother. Meanwhile, Nathaniel attends the annual Plimpton Christmas Eve party.

Nathaniel   
  
**Fri, Dec 23,** 10:15 PM  
Landed.  
How was it?  
Besides the fact the man next to me coughed the entire time so I probably have the Black Plague? Fine. I watched a bunch of episodes of Making a Murderer and now I’ve lost all faith in humanity. Merry Christmas.  
Ubering?  
Yea, mom’s already asleep.  
You nervous to talk to her?  
Getting heart palpitations just thinking about it.  
I’m here if you need me. You can call, text, etc. anytime.  
Thanks.  
It’s so cold here. How did I forget how cold it is here?  
When is the very merry Plimpton holiday torture fest?  
Tomorrow at 5.  
I expect status updates. Who’s there? What are they wearing? How many scotches have you had? How much of a dick is your dad being on a scale of 1 to 10?  
You got it.  
Almost there. I’m going to try to sleep - get on East Coast time.  
Termingator misses you already. He’s on your side of the bed.  
Hey! Tell him not to get too comfortable. It’s only a few days.  
Good night.  
Night.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:02 AM  
Unbelievable.  
I’m livid.  
Ducking Audra Levine came over at 8am. “Just stopping by.”  
I meant fucking. Obviously.  
She KNEW I would be here. Popped in just early enough I wouldn’t be ready. So of course I look like shit and she happens to be dressed like a stepford wife. And she’s bragging about her perfect marriage and her perfect job. (My job.) UGH.  
Whatever, her husband has a small dick.  
Rotten lay.  
Don’t ask how I know that.  
I just realized it’s 6am there.  
Sorry.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 11:26 AM  
And good morning to you.  
Don’t worry about Audra. She has nothing on you.  
You’ve never even met her.  
I don’t need to meet her. She has nothing on you.  
Say more nice things.  
You’re talented and smart and beautiful. And definitely NOT a rotten lay.  
She probably just lies there.  
Ha! Perfect response. You always know what to say.  
Anytime.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 5:01 PM  
I’m chickening out. I can’t do it. I’m panicking. She’s being weirdly nice and I just want to have a nice time and not ruin the whole day.  
Want to talk? I can call you.  
No, it’s fine. I think I’m going to wait until tomorrow for “the talk”. She’s making me dinner and we’re really getting along.  
I can’t stop thinking...she’s the only family I have. What if we get in a huge fight and she throws me out and never wants to speak to me again?  
What then? I just don’t have a family? I’m already no contact with my dad. I have no siblings. Then I’m without a family the rest of my life? I’m alone in this world?  
Or what if she dismisses the whole thing? What if she says I was trying to get attention or being dramatic or that I need to get over it?  
I don’t know if I can handle that.  
I’m sorry. I know I’ve talked this to death and you’re probably sick of hearing about it.  
Not at all. I wish I could help.  
I know it’s hard, but you can do this.  
Tomorrow. I promise I’ll talk to her tomorrow.  
Ok.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 7:44 PM  
Dinner was good. My mom is still being suspiciously nice.  
You in a tux yet?  
You bet.  
I knew it. I bet you look hot as fuck.  
  
Tell the ladies to stay away from my man.  
Most of them will be over 65.  
That’s even worse. They’re super horny since their husbands are old.  
Or impotent.  
Or dead.  
Somehow I think I’ll be able to resist.  
Remember, I want a play-by-play. Distract me from my overwhelming, debilitating dread.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 8:11 PM  
Away we go.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 8:26 PM  
Scotch #1. Dad dick level: 2. Said my tux looks tight on me. Apparently I’m losing my discipline.  
You’re sexy as hell. He can fuck right off. Also, that’s only a 2?  
Who are the lucky guests?  
Family friends. Assorted old relatives. Colleagues from the firm. A few potential clients. A woman clearly here as a set-up for me by my parents.  
What? Your parents set you up?  
There’s always an ulterior motive. I’m sure it benefits the firm in some way. Usually new business.  
Are you going to go out with her?  
What? Of course not. How could you even ask that?  
Not even for the business?  
No.  
I didn’t know missing the party meant that you would have attractive women throwing themselves at you.  
It’s not like that at all. When you come with me next year, you’ll see.  
If we’re still together then.  
If?  
I don’t want it to be an if.  
Rebecca?  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:12 PM  
Scotch #2. Dad dick level: 5. Said he’s going to replace me in West Covina if I don’t improve the numbers. “Don’t be a loser.” Great advice.  
Ranks highly, along with “just be happy” and “calm down”. Also, that’s only a 5?  
Someday I’ll tell you what a 10 is.  
Ha. Ok.  
You wouldn’t move back, would you?  
I guess it depends on “if” we were together.  
Please don’t move away.  
Don’t worry.  
More great advice.  
But seriously, would you leave?  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:17 PM  
Nathaniel? Would you?  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:29 PM  
Please don’t move away and please don’t go out with that woman your parents want.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:34 PM  
I know I don’t say it enough but I hope you know how much I care about you. A lot. A lot. So much. More than you probably realize.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:41 PM  
I don’t want it to be an if either. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:53 PM  
Please, I really need you to respond.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 9:57 PM  
I’m here.  
Sorry, my dad pulled me away to meet a potential client. He actually wants you specifically on the case. Dad dick level: 6. Apparently my father thinks you’re a better lawyer than his own son.  
Rebecca?  
Are you ok?  
Sorry, I’m in a weird headspace right now.  
Do you want to talk? Do you need me to come over?  
What?  
To New York?  
Yeah.  
It’s Christmas Eve and I’m across the country.  
So?  
Stop it. I’ll be ok. I just had a moment. Enjoy the party. I’m going to do my breathing.  
**Sat, Dec 24,** 10:22 PM  
How are you feeling? Everything good?  
Doing better now.  
Sorry about before.  
No need to apologize.  
I think I might be drunk. A little.  
Maybe more than a little.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 12:05 AM  
Scotch 4. Dad dick 7. I just hate him.  
When was scotch 3?  
And you realize it sounds like you’re talking about your dad’s dick, right?  
I bet his dick is mean too.  
OMG   
What did he say to you? And how drunk are you right now?  
At least he didn’t hirt me  
Huh? What do you mean?  
Your so pretty  
Uh oh.  
Your hair does that curly thing. How does it do that  
I curl it.  
Grammar apparently the first thing to go.  
I miss you  
It’s been one day.  
So  
I hope its ok with your mom. I wnat you to be happy.  
If shes gets mad ill be your family ok  
That’s very sweet.  
Well youre my sunshine  
What happened with that woman? The set up?  
I told her about you. She was nice about it  
Ok.  
You shouldnt be jealous  
I’m not jealous.  
If you saw my brain you wouldn’t be jealous  
Youre always there  
Maybe you should lie down.  
Remember the wedding? With chris  
It was like 3 weeks ago, so yes I remember.  
I decided were gonna get married  
Oh really?  
What ring do you want  
Oh my god. You need to go to sleep.  
I would never do what he did  
If you loved me i would do anyhting  
I wouldn’t mess it up  
We should talk about something else. Or you should go to sleep.   
Pretend  
Pretend what?  
Tell me what ring you want  
You’re ridiculous right now. Go to bed.  
When can you sleep over  
Maybe Sunday night.  
No  
No?  
I want you to always sleep over  
Oh. Soon. But only if you stop talking about getting married and rings.  
Ok  
I’m in bed now. Room is  
Go to sleep.  
Spinny  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 12:37 AM  
Are you awake  
Rebecca  
What?  
Rebecca  
What!  
Rebecca  
Nathaniel  
Want o talk dirty  
You’re too drunk.  
You like talking  
Omg. Go to sleep.  
Remeber when you wore the handcuffs  
Good night.  
Can we do that again  
Good night.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 12:45 AM  
Yes.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 10:17 AM  
I’m so sorry.  
Merry Christmas. How’s that hangover treating you?  
Merry Christmas. Or do I say Happy Hanukkah? Can we just pretend those texts didn’t happen? I was drunk.  
You were?  
Hilarious. And again, I’m sorry.  
I’m not mad. You were sweet.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 11:02 AM  
When are you going to talk to your mom?  
As soon as there’s an opening. My stomach feels like I ate an egg salad sandwich from the vending machine.  
If you need anything, I’m here.  
Go be with your family. It’s Christmas.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 4:32 PM  
Can you talk?  
I’m here.  
I’m crying in the bathroom.  
What happened?  
It’s good crying. Believe it or not. I don’t know where to start. I’m in shock.  
I think we actually bonded. For real. Like how I imagine mothers and daughters are supposed to bond.  
She apologized for not contacting me right away after. She said she felt like she failed as a mom and thought I would be better off without her. She said growing up mental illness wasn’t something anyone talked about, so she never knew how to help me or handle me. She did the best she could and acknowledged that it wasn’t enough. I can’t believe it honestly.  
Wow.  
I told her about my diagnosis and everything I went through. All my progress these past months. She said she’s proud of me. Proud of me! I think things are going to be different now. You have no idea what this means to me. I felt like we were connecting for real. Human to human. It’s never been like that for us.  
I’ll tell you more when I see you.  
I’m happy for you. I wish I could be there.  
Me too. Actually, I started to tell her about you. But then she said she looked you up on LinkedIn and you look like a “hot Nazi”. So I decided to wait on telling her.  
Should I be flattered or insulted?  
Up to you. If you met her, she would probably try to sleep with you. I wish I was joking.  
Huh. Ok.  
I’ve been in the bathroom too long. I’ll catch up with you later.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 5:13 PM  
When are you going home?  
Driving back tonight.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 5:27 PM  
I miss you. I’m saying that sober now.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 5:58 PM  
I miss you too.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 6:14 PM  
When is your flight tomorrow?  
Gets in at 3ish your time. American 1213.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 6:32 PM  
Hey Nathaniel?  
Yeah?  
What do you think our holiday traditions would be?  
Me and you?  
Yea.  
Are you opposed to a Christmas tree?  
I would love a tree.  
Don’t try to convince me to get a fake one. We’re getting a real tree.  
The needles get everywhere. And it’s a fire hazard.  
Please?  
You’ll want a bunch of sparkly, obnoxious ornaments.  
And you’ll want the tree perfectly trimmed with evenly-spaced white lights.  
I’ll be fishing tinsel out of your hair.  
I’ll make you lift me to put the star on top.  
You’ll make me drink hot chocolate with those chemical-filled little marshmellows.  
You’ll make an exception.  
I will.  
We’ll go to your family’s party. They’ll disapprove of me and I’ll wear that red dress just to torture you.  
We’ll sneak away to have sex in my childhood bedroom.  
A given.  
On Christmas morning, we’ll sleep in. We’ll open gifts while we’re still in our pjs.  
Then we can watch Christmas movies all day. It’s a Wonderful Life. White Christmas. Christmas Vacation. The Sound of Music.  
The Sound of Music?  
I always watch it during the holidays.  
You watch a movie with Nazis during the holidays?  
I only watch the first half.  
For being Jewish, you have a lot of ideas about the perfect Christmas.  
I’m half Christmas too, remember?  
Right.  
What about Hanukkah stuff?  
Eh, it’s not as exciting.  
Though my mom has this thing where she collects really kitschy menorahs. There’s one with Mickey Mouse characters. Cats. An octopus. A dinosaur where each of its spiky things holds a candle.  
It’s dumb but we like unpacking them and laughing at how ridiculous they are.  
That sounds nice actually.  
I wish my family...laughed.  
Wow, that sounded pathetic.  
Heading home now.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 9:08 PM  
You left me a gift? How did this get here?  
I wanted you to get it on Christmas. I convinced George to drop it off. Told him it was something for work. He’ll do anything for you. You guys have a weird Gaston/Lefou thing going on. You know that, right?  
Did you open it?  
Open it!  
Wow.  
Harry Potter complete movie collection.  
How dare you call yourself a fan without seeing the movies?!  
We’re going to spend a whole day in bed watching all the movies and eating Thai food.  
You game?  
You had me at in bed.  
YAY!  
Can we take breaks for...  
...for what?  
Other activities?  
Activities that require Alohomora…?  
  
When do we start? Can we start now?  
  
Men are so easy.  
By the way, I can’t believe I’m dating a Slytherin. What have I become?  
Thanks for giving me a chance, despite my affiliation.  
I can make exceptions too.  
I’m glad you’ve finally accepted you’re Gryffindor.  
Don’t gloat.  
Say I was right.  
Come on. Say it.  
If you admit I was right, I’ll drink some of that horrid hot chocolate when you get back.  
OK FINE. You were right.  
**Sat, Dec 25,** 10:25 PM  
Good night. Tell Termingator the end is nigh.  
Night.  
**Sun, Dec 26,** 10:24 AM  
TSA pre-check is a ducking gift.  
Fucking!  
Holidays at the airport are a total shit show.  
**Sun, Dec 26,** 11:41 AM  
Was on a run. You boarded yet?  
They’re about to start. See you on the other side, Plimpton.  
Fly safe, Bunch. Try not to get the Black Plague.  
**Sun, Dec 26,** 2:58 PM  
Landed.  
Welcome home.  
Why didn’t you let me drive you?  
It’s a 3-4 hour round trip. A huge pain in the ass.  
I don’t mind.  
Time to drive. See you later.  
Can I see you tonight?  
Let me see how I feel when I get home. I may just want to collapse with RGG.  
Ok.  
**Sun, Dec 26,** 5:31 PM  
I see turnabout is fair play.  
You get my gifts?  
Plural? I haven’t opened the box yet.  
**Sun, Dec 26,** 5:47 PM  
Ok, opening now.  
Look at you! 8 gifts. You finally learned something about my culture.  
Why are they numbered?  
Open in order.  
Oooh, I’m intrigued.  
I’m sensing a theme here. Sunscreen, sunglasses, a fancy water bottle, a sundress. Kudos on getting my size right. How did you do that?  
It doesn’t take a genius. You’re constantly leaving your clothes all over my apartment floor.  
I do have a closet, you know. Even a dresser. With an empty drawer that I put aside for you. That you refuse to use.  
A Gryffindor t-shirt. Haha. I GET IT. You’re never going to let that go, are you?  
Luggage tags. Are we going somewhere?  
OH MY GOD  
Tickets to Orlando. Are we going to Disney World? Answer me! Are we going to Disney World?!  
AHHHHHHHHHH  
THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER  
You one-upped my gift so hard!!!  
I’m so excited!!! THANK YOU  
  
Why aren’t you answering me?!  
Plimpton, how dare you drop this bomb on me and then not answer!!!  
If you don’t respond soon, I’m coming over there.  
Open the door.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...this required me to fumble my way through coding. YOU'RE WELCOME. THIS IS WHAT I DO FOR MY ART. 
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter...
> 
> Nathaniel Goes to Therapy.
> 
> (Gotta balance this fluff with some ANGST.)
> 
> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace


	6. Nathaniel Goes to Therapy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel gets some truth bombs dropped on him from an unexpected source. It causes him to reevaluate his motives and finally address his childhood trauma.
> 
>   _In case of emergency, use key._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning** : Abuse is mentioned but not described.

“As we discussed prior to the break, the holidays can be a particularly difficult time of the year. For those who already suffer from mental illness, the additional stressors have the potential to become overwhelming and trigger emotional regression,” a middle-aged woman explained in a gentle lilt. A name tag with a bright blue border, stuck to the left side of her chest, declared _Hello, My Name is...Nancy (NAMI)_ in meticulously-written block letters. “If there are strained family relationships or a loss of a family member or friend during the year, the holidays can bring out those emotions or intensify them.” 

Nancy tucked a stray reddish hair around her ear. From behind her thick glasses, her eyes danced over each of the regulars, attempting to make eye contact. When no one spoke, she continued, “It’s also very crucial we take care of ourselves as well. Especially for those of us who are caregivers, we cannot be fully present for others unless we, ourselves, have proper care.” 

A heavy silence fell over the group. A myriad of unspoken thoughts and feelings hung in the air between them, no one willing to be the first to rip off the proverbial bandage and expose their wounds. 

“Normally we don’t like to call upon any one person, in order to let the conversation flow organically. But since we seem to be struggling here, why don’t we start with Nathaniel,” Nancy suggested, pinning him with her eyes.

Nathaniel, who had been hunched over, picking at his cuticle with his thumb and forefinger, straightened up his posture and regarded Nancy. Mona, sitting directly to Nathaniel’s left, pulled the edges of her pale yellow cardigan tightly across her chest. 

“Nathaniel, prior to the break you mentioned your loved one would be addressing the issue of her suicide attempt with her mother. If you feel comfortable, is there anything you would like to share?”

He swallowed. “Sure. She, um, went back to New York to see her mother. From what she told me, it actually went pretty well. She seems happy. Really happy, actually,” he reported with a hint of a smile. “I stayed in contact with her the best I could, but she didn’t really need me, honestly.”

“Sometimes just knowing someone is out there, silently supporting, can be enough,” Nancy affirmed, nodding with encouragement.

Nathaniel looked down at his hands. “Still, I wish I had been there with her. I would have been more than happy to skip my family’s annual festivities. But she, uh, still hasn’t told her mother about our relationship, so…” he trailed off and tilted his head in a makeshift shrug.

From his left, a sound escaped from Mona’s lips that was two-parts scoff, one-part laugh. She crossed her arms and bit down hard on her lower lip. 

Nathaniel slowly turned his head toward her. “What was that?”

“Sorry, it’s nothing,” she replied and covered her mouth with her palm. Again, the room vibrated with tension, as if they all were collectively holding the same breath.

Nathaniel opened his mouth to speak but, before he could, Mona cut him off. “No, it’s not nothing, actually. When are you going to start asking for what _you_ want in this relationship?” 

He blinked and leaned back in his chair. His eyes narrowed, a mixture of confusion and incredulity playing across his features. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Mona,” Nancy warned.

“How long do we have to listen to him talk about her with complete blinders on?” she cried, gesturing with both her hands toward him. Turning toward him, she said, “Nathaniel, you are so infatuated with her, you trip all over yourself to accommodate her and her needs. What about you? What about your needs?” 

Nathaniel’s mouth fell open and all he could do was stare at her. The Mona he knew - poised, composed, controlled - would never raise her voice. He began to respond, “Mona, I _have_ to be accommodating. You know that. She’s -”

“I met her. Does everyone know that?” Mona interrupted, addressing the rest of the members of the group. “She was rude to me and then they snuck off and had sex in a bathroom! During a wedding!” Mona’s eyes were wild, wide. She clapped her hands together and pushed them toward Nathaniel. “Nathaniel, darling, you have no idea how much work this relationship is going to take. It’s all fun and sex and puppy love now. But you have no idea what you’re in for.”

Tears began to form in her eyes. She glanced down at her wedding ring and twisted it back and forth around her finger. Then she sighed and smoothed her skirt over her knees, her hands slightly trembling.

“Mona, let’s take a breath,” Nancy soothed. “It’s not your place to judge Nathaniel’s relationship.”

Mona shook her head at Nancy’s interruption and it appeared to only fuel her frustration. She re-focused on Nathaniel, a dull fire in her eyes. “Can we also address how you’re totally ignoring your own _multitude_ of deep-seated issues by focusing all of your attention on Rebecca? You may even be more fucked up than she is, but having a girlfriend with a personality disorder makes it easy for you to ignore your own problems, doesn’t it? Because, hey, by comparison, you’re just fine, right? We can all see that’s what you’re doing!” 

Mona waved her hand, gesturing to the other attendees, who all promptly averted their eyes to avoid getting pulled into the fray. “Fine. I guess I’m the only one who sees it. Whatever, I’m done with this.” Mona abruptly stood and rushed to the door, wiping away the moisture that had formed underneath her eyes.

Nathaniel stood to follow her, but Nancy raised her palm at him, stopping him. “Let’s give Mona time to cool down,” she suggested. Nathaniel sat back down, deflated. 

Nancy addressed the entirety of the group, “Sometimes when people are struggling or hurt, they can lash out toward others. Let’s be compassionate and forgiving toward her.”

The remainder of the meeting carried on without Mona, but Nathaniel couldn’t focus, her words reverberating in his mind. Despite Nancy’s reassurance, it was hard not to take her assessment personally. Aside from an occasional snarky comment from White Josh, he had never heard an outsider’s perspective on their relationship and her words were sobering. Nathaniel kept glancing toward the door, willing Mona to return, longing for reassurance that she didn’t truly mean it. 

After the meeting’s conclusion, Nathaniel was first out the door. He immediately spotted Mona in the hallway, leaning against an adjacent wall, her eyes downcast. When he approached her, she straightened up and sniffed. “Nathaniel…” she started, her voice soft and full of regret.

He waved a hand. “It’s ok. Really.”

“Can I buy you a drink so we can talk? I feel terrible.” Her eyes were still glassy, her cheeks pinkish and slightly puffy. Everything about her expression pleaded for him to say yes. “Just one drink. I know we both have to work tomorrow.”

“Ok,” he acquiesced. “One drink.”

*****

Cove Cocktail Bar, a long-time staple of West Covina, was about a mile away from the community center. It was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall - dimly lit, homey, a relaxed atmosphere. Despite the fact it was mid-January, strings of Christmas lights interwoven with garland were draped throughout the bar. Nathaniel and Mona found a table in the corner, away from other patrons, which was relatively easy on a Wednesday night. Every so often a cheer erupted from an adjacent room where a heated game of pool was being played. Nathaniel ordered an old-fashioned, as he was taking a hiatus from his usual scotch-on-the-rocks. Mona opted for a vodka tonic. 

Mona took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for what I said. It was unnecessarily harsh and uncalled for.” She stared at his hand, which was loosely holding his drink, her eyes unfocused and foggy. “When it comes down to it, I don’t know her...or you. I mean, I certainly know you better than I did back in school. But it’s still no excuse for me to make judgments like that and yell at you. I can admit it wasn’t my best look.”

“It’s ok,” he assured her. “You were right about the wedding. Rebecca was not her normal self and we did, um, what you said. In the changing room. Probably not _my_ best look either.” He chuckled softly and she smiled in return. “Maybe I do have a blind spot when it comes to Rebecca,” he admitted. He shrugged. “I love her. I can’t control it.”

Mona nodded in acknowledgement, but a flash of disappointment flickered in her eyes. “Listen, Nathaniel, I’m only saying this because I care about you. I know Rebecca is high-functioning, but I hope you realize that what she has is serious. People with borderline can be very manipulative and -”

“Stop, please. I know what I’m doing. And besides, you don’t know her like I do.” He sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “You know, of all people, I thought you would be supportive and understanding.”

“ _Of all people,_ I know what it’s like. A long-term relationship. It’s tough. And the longer it goes on, the harder it is to get out. I mean, she tried to kill herself the last time someone broke up with her. Do you not think about that at all?”

Nathaniel said nothing, dumbfounded by her boldness and crippled by the memory of Rebecca’s suicide attempt. His stomach knotted into a tightly wound ball. 

Mona reached across the table and clasped his free hand in hers. “Don’t be a hero. You can keep pretending, but you’ll never be happy.”

A slap in the face would have stung less. “Mona, come on…”

Her eyes darted self-consciously from his face down to their hands. “Don’t you ever want something easy?”

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “What?”

Mona stroked the outside of his hand with her thumb. “We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I. We understand each other. Don’t you ever want to be with someone who truly gets you?” Raw need oozed from every pore of her face and he felt all the breath rush out of his lungs. “Please. It would be so easy.”

Every word she spoke was drenched in hopelessness. A profound sadness washed over him. No matter how he reacted in the moment, she would be hurt. Even if he agreed to sleep with her, or whatever she was asking of him, in the end she would still be unhappy.

“You know I can’t,” he finally whispered, “and you can’t.” 

Mona slowly retracted her hand from his, her face crumpling, breaking. 

“Listen, I know you’re going through a hard time with Matthew,” he began. Before he could complete the thought, Mona began to weep into her hands.

“Oh my god,” she cried. “I can’t believe I just did that. I’m so embarrassed.” Her shoulders slumped and she deflated like a popped balloon. 

She lowered her hands from her face and set them on the table. She let the tears roll down her cheeks, her eyes full of earnest vulnerability. “Matthew and I are not in a good place right now. I’m scared. I’m scared to leave but I’m also scared to stay. It’s hard to explain.” 

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “And I hear you talk about Rebecca and I just miss those days, you know? When all that mattered was that we loved each other. Honestly, I’m jealous.” She shook her head, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You don’t need to hear this and I just made a complete fool of myself.” She stood. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you next week, ok?”

Mona walked briskly toward the exit, her black pumps clicking like a metronome, leaving Nathaniel, silently reeling, in her wake. He stared absently into his drink, swirling it around, the ice clinking with a thud against the sides of the glass.

Next week. 

Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieved his wallet and pulled out enough cash to cover both their drinks plus a generous tip. As he laid the money on the table, a business card, peeking out from the fold of his wallet, caught his eye. The edges were slightly frayed and discolored, but it was still in-tact. He had ignored it for months, letting it lie dormant, but now it jumped out at him like a bright, neon sign. The card read: _Dr. Davit Akopian, Licensed Therapist._

*****

It took Nathaniel a week to make the call. And another few days to call back and request an appointment that wasn’t months away. And a third to change his appointment to a day he knew Rebecca didn’t have her own. Just in case.

He skipped group. Twice. The first week he purposefully booked an after-hours meeting with a client on the same night. It helped convince himself it was a legitimate excuse. But the second week, he simply didn’t show up. 

The truth was he couldn’t bear to face Mona. It wasn’t the awkwardness from the incident at the bar that held him back. He could handle that. What was truly gnawing away at his psyche was that she was right. About some of it, at least. Not the things she said about Rebecca. He was able to let go of those comments, knowing they stemmed from her own insecurity about her marriage. What he couldn’t shake, however, was her cutting remarks about his own issues.

_Can we also address how you’re totally ignoring your own multitude of deep-seated issues by focusing all of your attention on Rebecca? You may even be more fucked up than she is, but having a girlfriend with a personality disorder makes it easy for you to ignore your own problems, doesn’t it?_

He was self-aware enough to acknowledge that he staunchly avoided dealing with his own trauma. Throwing himself headfirst into other activities helped silence the memories and unwelcome thoughts. First, it was college. Getting straight As. Water polo. Then, law school. Passing the bar. Work. Now, it was Whitefeather. And Rebecca. 

It only occurred to him now, as he put the car in park in front of Dr. Akopian’s home office, that attending the group was part of that distraction. And that’s when he knew he was never going back. 

He clutched the steering wheel and took a deep, steadying breath. He could leave. He didn’t have to do this. This was completely, one-hundred-percent optional. He had survived this long without revisiting old wounds. Be that as it may, as his knuckles turned white, he knew it was long overdue.

Why was it so easy to show up for Rebecca, to attend the support group for months and months, yet it felt so insurmountable to do this for himself?

His phone chimed and he winced involuntarily when the sound pierced the car’s bubble of silence. Releasing his grip on the steering wheel, he unhooked his seatbelt and dug into his pocket to grab his phone.

Rebecca  
  
**Thu, Jan 19,** 5:57 PM  
Last night Dr. A said I’m ok to try some weeknight sleepovers!  
Just need to monitor my mental/emotional state.  
Scanning my emotional system...  
I feel happy. And like I want to kiss my boyfriend.  
Anyway, will tell you more tomorrow night.  
  
I can come over tomorrow night, right?  
Of course.  
Maybe you’ll finally start using your drawer?  


He smiled softly at the messages, feeling a rush of excitement. This was a good sign. The best sign. He let his mind drift to the thought of waking up next to her each morning. Getting ready together. Drinking coffee together. Carpooling to the office. (Maybe.) He imagined her clothes hanging next to his in the closet. Her makeup spread out on his bathroom counter. Her black briefcase tossed haphazardly in his entryway.

With a jolt, he snapped out of his reverie, glancing down at his watch, and realized he was already two minutes late for his first appointment. 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from a therapist’s office, but it wasn’t a suburban home, nestled in a quiet neighborhood. And it wasn’t a cozy, white couch in a homey living room. As he tentatively walked into the room, curiosity got the best of him and he lingered on a photo of Dr. Akopian and his wife mounted on the wall. Through some quick online searches he had easily figured out the relationship between the Drs. Akopian. And again, seeing the photo, seeing the image of the woman who probably knew more about Rebecca than he ever would, he realized she was not at all what he expected.

Nathaniel sat on the very edge of the sofa, as if ready to spring up at a moment’s notice, and clasped his hands in front of him. “Thank you for seeing me,” he began formally, stiff. “I, um, don’t really know how these things go.”

“You can relax. We’re just going to get to know each other today.” Dr. Akopian had a notepad in his lap and his ankle rested casually over his opposite knee.

“Ok,” Nathaniel replied and licked his lips. After pausing a moment, he let his instincts take over. “Here’s the thing. I don’t want to waste either of our times. I know what my issues are and what they stem from. We don’t need to spend all this time delving into some regression into my childhood because I know what went wrong. I can just tell you.”

“I see.” Dr. Akopian raised his eyebrows, seemingly taken off-guard. “Then why don’t you explain why you’re here.”

“Well, because, while I know my issues, I’ve never actually said them outloud - to anyone - or dealt with them, whatever that means.” He unclasped his hands and rubbed them over the material of his pants. “Someone recently told me that I throw myself into things - my work, now my relationship - to avoid my own issues. And I think she was right. So now I’m here. To figure out how I’m supposed to deal with them.” He exhaled deeply and stared at Dr. Akopian’s shoes.

Dr. Akopian nodded, his soft brown eyes exuding understanding and warmth. 

Nathaniel barrelled on, the words rushing out hurriedly, in staccato bursts. “I want to get to the point and be efficient about this. I need to just...get it out of me. It’s...what it is...thing is...my dad beat me as a kid. And my mother did nothing. That’s...that’s the main thing.” He finally leaned back against the couch and rubbed the back of his neck. “As an adult, looking back...I know how horrible it was...what he did to me. And beyond...what he did...I also wasn’t allowed to have friends. I basically had no childhood. I was forced to focus all my energy on school and being perfect at everything. I was very...controlled.” Nathaniel screwed his eyes shut and felt a dull headache begin to form at the base of his skull.

After a beat of silence, Dr. Akopian replied, “Nathaniel, let me re-iterate that, while I appreciate your need to maximize productivity, if you will, we can take it slow. You wouldn’t be wasting my time.”

Nathaniel opened his eyes and considered this. He laughed quietly, ruefully at himself. “Sorry, I just realized what I did is exactly what my father ingrained in me. Don’t waste time. Get to the point. Time is money. All those meaningless platitudes. How pathetic that I played right into that, huh? Wow.”

“Nathaniel, let’s take a breather from the heavy stuff. Why don’t we take a step back and you tell me a little more about your day-to-day life?”

“Ok,” he breathed. “Sure. Uh, I’m a partner at my family’s law firm along with my father and my grandfather. Mainly real estate law. That keeps me pretty busy. I’m supposed to be improving the numbers at this fixer-upper firm we bought an ownership stake in here in West Covina.”

“I’m sensing a _but_ here.”

Nathaniel could feel himself relaxing, trusting Dr. Akopian to help guide the conversation. “It’s been a challenge. Most of the employees are terrible,” he chuckled. “My grandfather is getting old so my father tends to make most of the business decisions nowadays. He keeps threatening to pull me back to LA if I don’t perform.”

“And you feel like you have to prove yourself?”

“Of course. My whole life that’s what I’ve been trying to do.” 

“Do you plan to stay with the firm for the rest of your career?”

He paused. “I guess I never thought there was any other possibility,” he admitted. 

“What about the relationship you previously mentioned? Is it a romantic relationship with someone?”

“My girlfriend, Rebecca. She’s a lawyer, the best lawyer by far, at the firm here. Been together almost a year now.”

“And what does your father think about your having a relationship with an employee?” 

“He doesn’t know,” he confessed, balling his hands into fists.

“You’re worried about the conflict of interest?”

“That’s part of it. It’s complicated. We’re kind of taking things slow.”

“Taking things slow. What does that mean to you?”

Nathaniel stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I kind of want to keep the focus on my family right now, if that’s ok.”

Dr. Akopian jotted something down on the pad resting in his lap. “Ok, let’s circle back.”

*****

The next day, Nathaniel arrived at work a little later than his usual 8 am sharp. He had tossed and turned all night and the evidence of that fact was written all over his face. His eyes were dull, sunken, drained of their usual glimmer, and his face had a worrying pallor. 

Speaking aloud the secrets he held inside for so long awoke something within him, triggering an avalanche of childhood memories he thought he had buried forever. They slowly seeped into the forefront of his consciousness the way new grass finds a way to sprout through uneven sidewalk cracks. 

It wasn’t any one specific instance that haunted him. What really plagued him, what had kept him up all night, was the coalescence of feelings those memories evoked.

Hurt. Betrayal. Fear. Overwhelming fear.

At some point during the night, he simply accepted he wasn’t going to sleep. He went for a run, with a faint hope the exercise would tire him out enough to sleep. But when he returned, sleep still eluded him. Every time he felt close to succumbing, he would experience a cruel hypnic jerk that made his muscles tense and left him gasping to air. When the first hint of sunlight began to peek through his curtains, he swore he saw a shadowy figure in the doorway. Panic momentarily squeezed at his chest, but when he rubbed his eyes, it disappeared. 

When his alarm went off at its usual time, he mentally calculated that he slept less than two hours. He muddled through his morning routine, feeling like he was in slow motion, struggling to wade through quicksand. But he eventually pulled himself together enough to drag himself to the office.

A Peet’s coffee cup was waiting for him, a yellow sticky note stuck to the desk next to it.

_Are you cake? Cause I want a piece of that._

He glanced out at Rebecca in the bullpen. The corners of her mouth twitched and she raised one suggestive eyebrow at him. He shook his head in mock-disappointment but couldn’t hide his smile. At least he had this. Her. She was a light when his world was dark.

Nathaniel worked most of the day with his door closed, not wanting his subordinates to see him so haggard and drawn. In the afternoon, Rebecca tentatively knocked on his door and he reluctantly allowed her in. 

“Hey boss. Working hard or hardly working in here?” she joked. But her smile faded when she fully took in his appearance. Her brow furrowed in concern. “Wait, are you ok? You look…”

“I know,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, pretending it was no big deal. “I had trouble sleeping last night. That’s all. I’m just tired.”

“Ok.”

“Actually, um, maybe we should skip tonight. I think I want to go home and go straight to bed. Rain check?”

Her face fell. “Oh. Oh ok.”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be any fun like this anyway.”

“Oh, are you normally fun?” 

“Ah ha ha. Good one,” he retorted with a fake laugh.

“Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow. I promise.”

*****

Nathaniel collapsed into bed at an early hour, determined, laser-focused, on sleeping. He could _not_ have a repeat of the night before. It should be simple, after all. Just sleep. One of the most basic functions as a human. Eat. Sleep. It literally takes no effort. 

As soon as he shut off the lights, however, he felt immediate, paralyzing anxiety. Why couldn’t he sleep? When would he finally sleep? What if he didn’t sleep for another night in a row? How long could a person function without sleep? But also, why didn’t his father love him? 

After several hours of lying in a pool of his own sweat, his heart racing like a jackhammer, he had had enough. What the hell was wrong with him? He felt frustrated tears prick the back of his eyes. In an attempt to distract himself, he picked up his phone.

Rebecca  
  
**Fri, Jan 20,** 11:37 PM  
Are you awake?  
Yep, watching My Strange Addiction with Heather. This woman is addicted to eating her own couch cushions. Makes me feel a little less crazy.  
I thought you were going to bed early.  
I can’t sleep. And the more I think about sleep, the more I can’t sleep.  
I don’t know. I feel weird. Like I’m losing my mind.  
I’m sorry I bothered you. Have fun with Heather. I’ll see you tomorrow.  


Just past midnight, as Nathaniel perused an article titled _How Much Sleep Deprivation Can We Survive?_ , he heard a key slide into his door. He wondered for a moment if this was another trick of his imagination. The only person who had a key was…

Since his eyes were already adjusted to the darkness, he recognized Rebecca’s outline immediately. She shut the door quietly behind her and tiptoed toward the bed, her steps timid, her arms reaching out awkwardly to find the edge of the bed.

“I’m awake,” he said softly.

Rebecca sighed and followed his voice. “Hey,” she whispered.

He reached out and grabbed her hand, guiding her to where he lay. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

She brushed his hair off his forehead. “It sounds like you have sleep anxiety. And I knew you would never ask for help.” 

“Sleep anxiety? Is that a thing?”

Rebecca lifted the sheets and he scooted over to give her room. “Yes, it’s a thing,” she replied, laying down beside him and then gently tracing his jaw with her hand. “It’s this endless cycle of being unable to sleep because you’re anxious but then being anxious because you’re unable to sleep. It’s happened to me many times before.”

“What do you do?”

“Sometimes I write down all the things in my head that are causing the anxiety. Getting it all out on paper and seeing it can make you realize it isn’t as bad as you think. Doing things to tire yourself out. Exercise, which obviously I never do.”

“I tried that one last night.”

“Of course you did. Or masturbating. Stuff like that.”

“Interesting…” Nathaniel snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Maybe you can help me,” he whispered and lightly kissed her lips. 

“What are you having anxiety about? Is everything ok?”

“I’m fine,” he lied and cupped her face, stroking his thumb across her cheek. “Thank you for coming over.” He drew her mouth to his and he instantly relaxed. Sweet relief. She was soft when he was rough. She was his spark when his flame went out.

He rolled on top of her and she immediately wrapped her legs around him, cradling him in the comfort of her body. His kisses were hard, bruising, insistent as he ran his hands over every square inch of her. He poured the last ounces of his dwindling energy into kissing her. All he wanted was to get lost in this, to silence his spiraling, debilitating thoughts. 

A faint taste of salt coated her lips and it transported him back to the pool. Seventh grade. The Junior Olympics water polo tournament. Right wing. He took an elbow to the nose just as he was about to take his shot at tying up the score. The blow caused him to lose his equilibrium, and he sank down to the bottom of the shallow pool. When he regained focus, he glanced up at the surface and saw the wavy, undulating outline of his father at the water’s edge. And for a brief moment, he contemplated whether drowning would be a better option than resurfacing. 

Blood gushed from his nose, contaminating the pool, and the match had to be postponed.

_Don’t cry or I’ll give you something to cry about._

Nathaniel grinded his hips harder against her. At this point, he would normally be painfully ready, full of desperate want for her. But his body betrayed him. He felt a frustrated lump, a strangled cry, settle in the base of his throat. Forging forward, he continued to hopelessly claw at her, silently pleading with his brain to deliver the message to his body. You need to perform. Don’t accept anything less than perfection.

Rebecca’s hands on his face snapped him out of his trance. She was breathing heavily, panting out, “Hey, hey, hey, Nathaniel. Nathaniel. Stop. Are you...are you crying?” And then her hands were all over his face, feeling in the darkness, wiping away the dampness. “Oh my god, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

He stopped his movements and braced himself on his forearms. “Shit. I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he apologized, his voice wavering, cracking. Tears dripped onto her face, making her flinch, and it filled him with intense self-loathing. He rolled off of her onto his back and covered his face with his hands. “Fuck,” he cursed, the sound muffled by his hands. 

Rebecca was silent and unmoving next to him. After taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, he lowered his hands and looked over at her, mumbling, “You can go if you want.” Her face was obscured by the darkness. And thank god. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment that was likely maring her beautiful face.

“You think I’m going to leave you right now?” Rebecca slipped her arm around his neck and pulled him to her. “Come here,” she beckoned.

With no fight left in him, he went to her, wrapping a heavy arm around her middle and resting his head over her heart. She threaded her small, deft fingers through his hair, methodically massaging him at the base of his scalp. After letting out a shuddering breath, he closed his eyes and focused on the sound of her beating heart. 

He sent up a silent prayer to every deity he didn’t believe in. Praise Him or Her or It or Them for this woman. How did he live without her before this? How did he survive thirty years without knowing her, loving her? The thought defied all logic and reason. Maybe the lack of sleep made him delirious, but he felt it all the same.

“I love you,” he croaked. “You’re my whole world.”

For a moment her fingers stopped stroking him and he could feel her heartbeat speed up beneath his ear. She settled deeper into the blankets, tightening her arm around his head, keeping him firmly against her breast, as she found a comfortable position. She sighed and kissed the top of his forehead. 

He was asleep within minutes. 

When he finally woke, it was to the sound of clattering and hushed expletives from the kitchen. The smell of eggs lingered in the air and it set his stomach growling with hunger. He padded to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, to see Rebecca over the stove with a pan of clumpy eggs. 

The morning light from the window illuminated her face and created a gentle halo around her. Her hair was still tousled, unkempt with bedhead, and her maroon t-shirt was rumpled and askew, revealing part of her left shoulder. She had never looked more beautiful.

“Look at you,” he smirked, resting his hands on both her shoulders from behind. “You never make me breakfast. I didn’t think you knew how to use a stove.”

“Well, you slept for over twelve hours, so I thought you might be hungry. I was getting bored waiting for you to wake up.” Turning to face him, gesturing with a spatula, she continued, “Plus, now that I’ll be staying over on weeknights, I’m going to be all up in your business. Your stove, your toaster, your bathtub. And I promise I will start using the drawer. Maybe even the closet. No more clothes on the floor.” 

He chuckled, “Finally.”

Her voice dropped and softened. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m here. For you. In this apartment. To make you eggs. Or help you fall asleep.”

He lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “I get it. Thank you.”

She nodded sharply and turned back to the stove. As he fired up the coffee maker, he noticed Dr. Akopian’s business card on the counter, just inches away from where Rebecca stood, next to the jar of red licorice. When he looked back at her, her eyes met his briefly but then flitted away.

He cleared his throat. “How about we start the movie marathon today?” He pressed his chest against her back, sliding his arms around her. “Me. You. You can let me Slytherin to your Chamber of Secrets. Slide into your Sorting Hat.”

She giggled, “Did you just refer to my vagina as the Sorting Hat?”

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “Maybe,” he murmured.

“I have so many questions. First, can your dick be sorted into a different house than you?”

“Well…”

“Because I would argue your dick is probably more Hufflepuff than Slytherin. Very patient, dedicated, hard-working…”

“Wow. Thank you?”

“You’re going to have twenty hours of movie to come up with more dirty talk, which you are already exemplary at, by the way.”

“I’m going to...destroy your horcrux.” 

“Oh my god, stop,” she teased, dumping the eggs from the pan onto a plate and then turning off the stove. 

“That’s just the beginning,” he continued, rubbing his burgeoning erection against her lower back. 

“You get one more.”

“My wand is ready to make you into a Moaning Myrtle.”

Rebecca dissolved into laughter. She turned in his arms and glanced down. “I can see that. But we need to eat first. I’m starving.”

“Oh, I’m gonna eat something.”

“After!”

He groaned loudly, throwing his head back in an exaggerated protest. She gave in. He made sloppy, imperfect love to her on the kitchen counter. The eggs were cold by the time they got around to eating them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for Rebecca's freak out in: Can Rebecca Live Without Glitter?
> 
> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace


	7. Can Rebecca Live Without Glitter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca freaks out about it.

“Why do you always hum when you get ready?” 

Nathaniel and Rebecca stood side-by-side in front of his bathroom mirror, Nathaniel tightening his tie while Rebecca finished buttoning her pale pink, floral blouse. 

A few weeks prior, Rebecca started spending more nights at Nathaniel’s apartment. (Heather and Hector had more-or-less claimed Rebecca and Heather’s apartment as their love nest.) She eased into it at first. One extra weeknight. A change of clothes or two in her designated drawer. 

She dipped her toe into the water, resisting the temptation to dive in headfirst. 

Then, it was two weeknights. A few dresses took up companionable residence next to his suit jackets in the closet. Close, but not touching. A spare toothbrush, tall and proud, roosted next to his. Her curling iron migrated across town.

She waded deeper into the water, letting it crest up to her waist. 

Nathaniel tugged at her, tried to pull her farther away from the shore. He barely masked his disappointment when she didn’t immediately spend every night with him. She pretended she didn’t notice the way he lingered at her desk at the end of the day, hoping she would suggest they get dinner or watch Netflix together at his place. Or the painfully obvious implication when he curled his arm around her hip in the early morning and whispered _I love waking up with you_. 

His eyes pleaded with her. Come over. Stay. Just a little longer. A few more hours. One more night. 

These love kernels were overwhelmingly enticing. After all, she reasoned in moments she felt particularly weak to his charms, he could hold her up if she got tired of swimming. But what if, one day, he let go and she drowned?

Despite Dr. Akopian’s reassurances that she was stable and could handle more, Rebecca was reluctant to try to tread water on her own. In her mind, she still teetered on the edge of obsession. She had progressed a great deal - she acknowledged that fact - but she couldn't escape the dizzying fear that she could lose it all at any moment. 

“Huh?” Rebecca asked, plugging in the curling iron.

“You were humming,” he reiterated. “You do that a lot.” He unscrewed the cap off a tub of pomade, globbing a small amount on his fingers before running them through his hair.

“Oh, yea. I have this song I made up about getting ready. It helps me get my mojo for the day. It’s like a sexy getting ready song,” she explained, gesturing with the the curling iron, her hair bouncing back and forth.

He raised his eyebrows and met her eyes in the mirror. “Really? Sing it.”

Rebecca jabbed the implement at his reflection. “I’m not gonna sing it. You know I can’t sing.”

He shrugged. “Well, either way, it’s working because you do look sexy.” He grinned dumbly at her, his eyes drifting downward, unabashedly staring at her cleavage.

“Do you ever stop ogling my chest?” she asked in faux-exasperation.

He chuckled. “No. Do I have to stop?”

She sighed loudly, pretending to reluctantly accept this burden. “I guess, technically, you’re the one person who’s allowed.”

He leaned over and dropped a kiss to her cheek before vacating the bathroom. 

Rebecca proceeded to curl her hair, singing softly under her breath, while she listened to Nathaniel putter around in the bedroom. First, it was the sound of hangers moving back and forth in the closet. Then, the dresser drawers opening and closing and Nathaniel cursing to himself.

He called out to her from the bedroom, “Hey, can you do me a favor today?”

“What?” 

“Can you pick up my dry cleaning? I have a meeting at 5:00 and they close at 6:00. It’s that Baldwin Park one. By the Target.”

Rebecca turned her back to the mirror and held up her phone, switching on the front-facing camera.

He stuck his head in the bathroom doorway when she didn’t respond right away. “Is that ok?”

“Sure, sure,” she agreed, waving him off. “Plus, I need to stop at Target anyway. Heather and I have been out of paper towels for like a month.” She squinted as she moved the phone back and forth, tilting her head at various angles. 

After observing her in fascination for several moments, he finally asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to see if I missed any spots.” She lowered the phone, dropping it on the vanity with a thud, her lips expelling a frustrated sigh. “Can you check for me? All you have to do is look for any part that’s still straight-ish.”

He stepped toward her, but hesitated, his hand hovering over her hair. “I feel weird doing this. Isn’t this a woman thing?” 

“Don’t let your years of misogynistic conditioning keep you from doing something nice for your girlfriend.”

He rolled his eyes in response.

“I can see you, you know,” she warned, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

He smirked. “Good.”

As he examined the back of her head, she went on, “Actually, did you know that animals who engage in grooming rituals have stronger social bonds, a reduction in disease transmission, and lower stress levels than those who don’t?”

When Nathaniel tipped his head in confusion, she explained, “I read all about it in this book _Blood and Lice_.” 

“Sounds disgusting.”

“What I’m saying is this can be our bonding thing. Like how I wash your hair.”

“Or you could just buy another hand mirror to keep here. Also, I thought you washed my hair solely so you could mock me for how far I’m forced to bend over.”

She pouted her lips and pinned him with her best doe eyes in the mirror. “Stop pretending. I know you like it.”

He sighed, defeated. Threading his fingers through a small section of her hair, he confidently stated, “Here. This part.”

“Thank you, my dear,” she said and replaced his fingers with hers. 

“As bonded as I feel to you right now, I have to take off. See you at the office.” He squeezed her shoulder before striding with purpose to the front door. 

After the door clicked shut, Rebecca regarded herself in the mirror, content. Yes, this was working. Baby steps.

***** 

At the office, Rebecca sipped on her chai tea latte with _Your place or mine?_ scrawled in black Sharpie on the side. 

“Lemme see,” Paula said when she approached Rebecca’s desk for their daily morning chat, nodding at the cup. Rebecca turned it so she could see. “Wow, right to the point these days. I like it,” Paula observed. “What are you up to tonight? Scott has rehearsal so I have to help Tommy finish his _stupid_ project for the science fair tomorrow, even though I have that big Constitutional Law test on Monday. I need to study, but I can never seem to find the time,” she complained. 

Rebecca shrugged and tapped her pen against the desk. “Nathaniel asked me to pick up his dry cleaning and then I’m going to Target. Actually, that reminds me.” Rebecca paused to jot on a nearby sticky note. “I need to get some of that face scrub to leave at his place since...” 

When Rebecca’s eyes drifted up to Paula’s, she trailed off. A sly grin had crept across Paula’s face.

“Why are you smiling at me like that time Tim choked on his boba?”

“You guys are cute.”

“Who? Me and Nathaniel?”

“Come on, you guys are like an old, married couple. You’re sleeping over at his place all the time, he brings you your latte everyday, you’re picking up his dry cleaning, you have his and hers therapists. It’s sweet.”

Rebecca dropped the pen and held up her hand in protest. “No, we are _not_ an old, married couple. No, no, no. We’re taking it slow, remember? We are still a very hot, sexy, unpredictable new couple.”

Paula’s eyebrow quirked up. “Is that so?”

“Yea, if we weren’t keeping it on the down low, I would totally go in there and jump his bones right now,” she asserted.

“Uh huh,” Paula deadpanned. 

They both glanced into Nathaniel’s office. As he read over a piece of paper, he coughed loudly into his hand. 

“Ew.” Paula scrunched up her face. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m trying to give you a compliment! I’m Team Rethaniel forever, remember? Unless he hurts you, of course, then he’s dead to me.”

“I know, I know.”

Paula shuffled back to her desk and Rebecca stared absently at the coffee cup. After twisting it in her hands a few times, she tipped her head back and chugged the remainder of the latte, quickly tossing the empty cup in the trash bin under her desk. As the morning slowly trudged on, she tried to focus on preparation for an upcoming deposition, but she kept compulsively glancing up at Nathaniel, panic gnawing at her gut.

Acting on a sudden impulse, she retrieved the offending cup from the trash and marched into Nathaniel’s office, closing the door behind her.

“What is this?” she demanded, holding up the cup. 

Nathaniel, who had been raptly focused on a piece of paper in front of him, slowly tore his eyes away to look up at her. “Huh? Oh, I know, the message was rather uninspired. You try coming up with those every day. I’m not the creative type, that’s your department.”

She shook her head. “No, not that. Why didn’t you ask me what I wanted?”

He furrowed his brow and placed his pen down on the desktop to focus all his attention on her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what if I didn’t want a latte today?” 

“But that’s always what you want,” he ventured hesitantly.

“What if I wanted something different today? What if I wanted something, I don’t know, more exciting and unexpected?” 

“An exciting and unexpected coffee order?” he asked, perplexed.

“What if I wanted a cappuccino or a mocha? You just assume you know what I want because you think you know me so well?” The pitch of her voice was steadily rising, flirting with her panic range. 

He shook his head sharply, his forehead wrinkled in frustration. “Sorry, are you mad at me right now? What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“No, I just…you’re not listening to me!” 

Nathaniel picked his pen back up with a flick of his wrist, indicating it was time to get back to work. With a tinge of irritation, he said, “Rebecca, I don’t have time to go out and get you something else today.”

“Ugh, you don’t get it,” she groaned and stomped out of his office, leaving him behind in a cloud of confusion. 

Rebecca flopped back down in her chair and pretended to get back to work. Immediately noticing Rebecca’s distressed expression, hunched shoulders, and violent mouse clicking, Paula peered over the cubicle wall until she caught Rebecca’s attention. 

“What just happened?” Paula asked in a stage whisper.

With forced cheerfulness, she responded, “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Hey, this just popped into my nogs. How about I come over tonight and help Tommy with his project thing so you can study for your test?”

Paula’s eyes widened in surprise. “Um, sure. That would be great, actually. But I assumed you would be spending the night with you-know-who.” Paula subtly nodded toward Nathaniel’s office.

“Nah. I mean, he and I are just breezy. I come and go, like, whenevs. It’s nbd.”

“Huh? Is that a STD or something?”

“It means no big deal.”

“Ah. Well, that is very sweet of you and I could sure use the help.”

“You got it.”

*****

Rebecca avoided Nathaniel the rest of the day, but still begrudgingly picked up his dry cleaning after work. (She wasn’t a monster.) Using her key, she dropped off the suits in his closet and quickly snuck out to drive over to Paula’s house.

Nathaniel   
  
**Fri, Feb 10,** 6:17 PM  
Suits are in your closet. I forgot to go to Target, but I guess we can live without paper towels for another month.  
Thank you. Are you staying over? I’ll be home soon.  
Sorry, I have plans tonight.  
What plans?  
What, you have to know every little thing I’m doing?  
You always stay over on Fridays.  
Are you mad?  
I’m fine. Going to Paula’s to babysit so she can study.  
Oh.  
That’s nice of you. See you tomorrow?  


Though Rebecca was barely more knowledgeable than Tommy about the finer points of plant growth under various stimuli, she was able to focus him enough to get his project finished. (But only after adamantly insisting they were definitely _not_ going back to Spiders’ or purchasing dubious reading material.) The quality was questionable at best, but it distracted Tommy enough to allow Paula a few hours to studying. Plus, when Tommy mentioned a girl he liked, a girl who had _developed_ early, Rebecca was able to shoehorn in an important lesson about not objectifying women based on sacks of yellow fat. 

“Project done. And a valuable lesson learned about the male gaze. Overall, a successful night,” she recapped to Paula, who was camped out at the dining table, books and notes scattered in front of her. 

“Thank you so much, munchkin. You’re a lifesaver.” 

Rebecca nodded and sank down into the chair next to her.

“Now that I’ve taken advantage of your services, I have to ask. Why did you really help me tonight? Why are you avoiding Nathaniel?”

Rebecca feigned shock, putting her hand on her chest. “Excuse me? I am not avoiding him. Why would you say that?”

“Let’s see. For one, you hardly spoke to him today. How many times did he slowly walk by your desk while you pretended to be fascinated with paperwork? And two, you just spent a Friday night doing homework with Tommy instead of having sex with your hot boyfriend.”

Rebecca frowned.

“Is it because of what I said about you two being an old, married couple? That was a joke! You need to lighten up!”

Rebecca shook her head and pressed her pointer finger hard against the table top. “But Paula, that’s the thing. I’m supposed to be going slow and now we’re suddenly…”

“Rebecca! Oh my god, enough with the going slow! I’m sick of hearing it! You two love each other!” Paula interrupted, raising her voice in aggravation.

When Rebecca’s eyes darted away, Paula pointed her finger at her. “Wait, you still haven’t told him you love him, have you? Rebecca Nora Bunch,” she scolded. 

“Paula stop! I never _claimed_ that I love him.” 

“But you obviously do! Will you please stop with this charade? You’re not fooling anyone, especially me.” 

Rebecca crossed her arms in front of her and leaned back against the chair, as if she were a child sentenced to an unjust time-out.

With a small chuckle, Paula muttered under her breath, “This is like Josh all over again.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped open. She immediately uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, grabbing Paula’s arm. “What? Like Josh? How? How? How?”

“Remember, you wouldn’t admit you loved him until I wrestled it out of you? And now, here you are, lying to yourself _yet again_.”

Rebecca was silent for a moment, letting the words wash over her. Tears of frustration bubbled up behind her eyes. No, no, no. Silently she rose from the table and grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter.

“Oh honey, stop. I’m just trying to help,” Paula protested. 

Cutting her off, Rebecca replied, “Great pep talk, Paula. You obviously do not get me or Nathaniel or our relationship at all. So, I’m gonna go.” She voice broke on her last word and she rushed out the door before Paula could object.

*****

That night, as Rebecca lay in bed, despondent and alone, she tried to conjure up the rational part of her brain. 

Everything was fine. 

Healthy boundaries, right Rebecca? God, how long had she been repeating that mantra to herself? Almost a year. The longest she had ever been in a relationship. The thought boggled her mind. Where had the time gone? How did they go from Nathaniel hesitantly asking her to be his girlfriend over dinner to a full-blown relationship where the lines in the sand between their lives had all but washed away with the tide? She could still picture him so clearly, at the restaurant, shifting in his seat, barely getting out the words, _I care about you._ And now, he pulled her close whenever she let him, declaring _I love you_ in her ear, warming her all over. 

Slow down, Rebecca. Don’t lose sight of the shoreline.

Don’t. Mess. This. Up.

Paula was wrong. She _had_ to be wrong. There was nothing old or married about them. Although, now that she thought about it, she didn’t exactly get goosebumps every time they touched. But that's what she wanted, right? No obsession. No glitter. No goosebumps. If Dr. Akopian would give her a damn grade already, like she asked, she would get an A+ in healthy boundaries. 

Breathe. 1...2...3… 

The next day, after a somewhat decent night’s sleep, Rebecca felt considerably more calm. In the morning, she luxuriated in the shower, spending extra time to try out a new deep conditioner. The minty serum made her scalp cool and tingly. Afterward, she lounged in her robe and made amicable chit-chat with Heather and Hector over morning coffee. (Heather drank her decaf with resentful gusto.)

When the afternoon rolled around, she picked up her phone, feeling zen, finally ready to make plans with Nathaniel for that night. After her appointment with Dr. Akopian, she decided, she would go over there and pretend like her little freak out never happened.

However, to her surprise, the phone sprang to life before she could press _Send_ , buzzing with an incoming call from a number she didn’t recognize. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey Rebecca, it’s Josh. White Josh,” he greeted her in a hushed tone.

“Uh, hi. Aren’t you in the desert or something? Why are you calling me?”

“I got back a few days ago. Could you come over to Nathaniel’s?” 

“Why are you whispering? Is everything ok?”

“He told me not to call you because he didn’t want you to worry and you have an appointment or something. But I have to go to work and I don’t think I should leave him alone.”

She abruptly stood, pressing the phone harder to her ear. “Did something happen? Is he ok? What’s going on?”

“He’s fine. We were working out and he had a little accident. But, like I said, he’s totally fine.”

Rebecca shrugged on her jacket. “Leaving now,” she affirmed and ended the call, practically sprinting to her car.

At Nathaniel apartment, she decided to forgo pleasantries and let herself in with her key. Nathaniel was flat on his back on the ground while White Josh stood nearby, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Both of them donned tank tops and gym shorts. The ShredFlex 5000 loomed, dark and foreboding, in the corner of the dining area, all spikes and metal.

“Oh my god, Nathaniel,” she exclaimed and rushed toward him, slamming the door shut haphazardly behind her. 

“Josh,” Nathaniel sighed, aggravated.

“Sorry dude, I gotta jet and someone should be here to help you out.”

Rebecca crouched beside Nathaniel, her eyes darting all over his body. Her chest burned white hot and her breath felt strangled in her windpipe. “What happened? Tell me right now.”

“I’m fine,” Nathaniel said with annoyance, refusing to meet her eyes.

“He threw out his back,” White Josh explained. 

“I pulled a muscle. That’s all. Don’t be dramatic,” Nathaniel objected.

Rebecca took a deep breath and attempted to modulate her voice into a calming tone. “How did this happen?” Her stomach churned as her emotions battled with each other. Fear. Worry. Anger. 

“Jesus, calm down. He broke form and dropped the weight -” White Josh began.

Nope. No one was allowed to tell her to calm down. Not when Nathaniel was literally unable to get off the floor. Rebecca rose and stood toe-to-toe with White Josh. Losing her cool, she spat, “First off, don’t tell me to calm down.”

“Rebecca,” Nathaniel warned.

Rebecca stopped and clasped her hands, threading her fingers together. In a voice that was overly composed, attempting to conceal her anger, she asked sweetly, “White Josh, can I please speak to you over there?” 

She walked toward Nathaniel’s bed and White Josh followed obediently. 

As soon as they were out of Nathaniel’s earshot, she unleashed her fury. “How could you let this happen?! Isn’t this the whole point of you two doofuses spotting each other?” Rebecca whispered, her voice laced with accusation.

“It’s not a big deal. He’ll be fine. These things happen,” White Josh assured her, matching her muted yet animated tone.

“Well, I don’t want _these things_ happening to Nathaniel! I thought I could trust you!” She lightly smacked his arm.

White Josh suddenly softened and smiled at her.

“What? Why are you smiling like that time I choked on my boba?”

“You actually do care about him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! Why would you even say that?!” she cried. 

He tilted his head and opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. “Don’t answer that. Just tell me what I need to do.”

“Try to get him to take a painkiller with an anti-inflammatory. Lying on a flat surface helps, but he’ll need to stretch the muscle so it doesn’t get stiff. He needs to get up and move around eventually.”

“Got it.”

“He won’t admit he needs help. If you need muscle later to help him up, you can call me and I’ll come back after my shift.”

At that, Rebecca felt a pang of guilt for taking her anger out on him. “Thanks. Sorry, I got a little heated.”

They shared a fleeting smile.

“I know you’re talking about me!” Nathaniel called out, breaking the spell. Rebecca and White Josh dispersed from their huddle and re-joined Nathaniel.

“Alright, buddy, I’m taking off. Rebecca’s going to take care of you, ok?” 

Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

“Quite an attitude for someone who can’t get off the floor,” White Josh retorted before waving goodbye and leaving the apartment.

Rebecca kneeled down next to Nathaniel. He stared up at the ceiling, his jaw set. His entire body stiffened, pulled taut with tension. Moments like this, when he felt particularly vulnerable, sometimes he fell back into old patterns. Back to _Old Nathaniel._

Closed off. Rigid. Stubborn as hell. Constructing emotional walls she had no choice but to tear apart.

“Just relax,” she said softly and stroked his arm.

“I told him not to call you. I know you have your appointment.”

“Shhh, it’s fine.” She continued to run her hand over his arm, then his chest, as if she could smooth away the pain he felt. His chest was still damp with sweat and his heart raced under her touch. “Honey, look at me.” 

Reluctantly, he dragged his eyes to meet hers. 

“Hi,” she breathed. 

His chest deflated and she could feel his muscles relax beneath her fingers. “Hi.” He covered her hand with his. “I feel like an idiot,” he admitted.

“You’re not an idiot. Does it hurt?”

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “It’s pretty bad,” he confessed.

“Why don’t you take something for the pain?”

“Pain killers are for -”

Rebecca cut him off, “I don’t want to hear any of your father’s dumb sayings. You’re taking something.” Then it dawned on her, “Actually, I have some Midol.” Rebecca stood from the floor and found her purse, which she had tossed unceremoniously onto the floor when she stormed in.

He raised his eyebrow. “Isn’t that for…?”

“It’s a pain killer and it’s all I have right now. Do you want it or not?” 

After a brief mental calculation, he nodded. “Fine.”

She dumped two pills into her hand and then retrieved a glass of water from his kitchen. She put the pills in his palm and thrusted the water at him. In a last stand of masculinity, he turned away the water and swallowed the pills dry. 

She smiled down at him and lovingly brushed the hair off his forehead. “You big, dumb baby.” He snickered, finally appearing to give up the fight, and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips.

In her periphery, a large object on his kitchen counter caught her eye. She hadn’t noticed it before in her haste to tend to him. 

“What’s with the giant pack of paper towels?” she asked with a giggle. “Planning a huge party or something?”

“No, it’s for you. Or we could split it. You said you forgot to go to Target.” 

Oh. “You bought me paper towels?”

“My gift to you,” he confirmed, shifting his body and wincing.

“You bought me paper towels,” she stated, her eyes widening. 

“What’s wrong? I thought you needed them.”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and her expression darkened.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. It looks like you’re upset about something.”

She rose from the floor and began to slowly pace beside him, her face etched with worry. “Oh god, oh god, Paula was right,” she muttered to herself, making her hand into a fist and slapping it against her other palm.

“Huh?”

“She said we’re like an old married couple. But we’re supposed to be taking it slow. And now I’m staying over here all the time, leaving clothes in your closet, picking up your dry cleaning. And you bought me paper towels! ” 

She was swimming away from him and sinking, sinking. Her lungs filled with water. 

“And why don’t I feel like glitter is exploding inside me?!” The words erupted out of her like a volcano.

“Glitter what now? Rebecca, you’re panicking. Come here.” Nathaniel reached his arm out to her as far as he could muster.

She ignored him and kept pacing, the words continuing to spew out of her, uncontrolled. “I know I’m not supposed to want that anymore. I know it’s bad for me. I know it was the whole point of the _stupid_ healthy boundaries. But what if it means… What does it mean?”

_What if it means I’m not in love with you? What if it means I’ll never be in love with you?_

“Rebecca.”

Rebecca shook her head, trying to push away the offending thoughts. “We _cannot_ be an old, married couple. Because that would mean we’re going too fast. Which means I’m repeating what I did with Josh all over again. Which is bad. Really bad. But, at the same time, if I don’t feel the glitter...”

“U.S. capitals,” Nathaniel interrupted again, more insistent this time.

She stopped pacing and locked eyes with Nathaniel, who was looking at her with intense concern. Taking a deep breath, she rattled off, “Albany, Annapolis, Augusta, Austin, Baton Rouge, Bismarck, Boise, Boston, Carson City, Charleston.” 

She raised her eyebrows, as if to say _Satisfied?_ but he made a circling motion with his finger to continue. “Cheyenne, Colombia, Columbus, Concord, Denver,” she exhaled and slumped her shoulders, releasing the tension she held there.

He held her above the water’s surface, helping her catch her breath. 

“You forgot Atlanta,” he quipped.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sorry, I’m having a moment.”

“Can you help me up so we can have this conversation face-to-face?”

“Of course,” she muttered, embarrassed, and scrambled over to him.

She hooked both her arms under his armpits and, after a small struggle, he used Rebecca as leverage to get into a standing position. He bit his lip hard as he staggered slowly to the couch, his arm draped heavily around Rebecca’s shoulders. Closing his eyes tightly, he eased himself down onto the couch. “Ah shit,” he cursed, breathing heavily. 

Her chest felt constricted, the heavy weight of guilt suffocating her. Why did she have to bring this up now? What the hell was wrong with her?

Nathaniel straightened his back against the couch, letting out a deep breath. She settled next to him, tucking one leg under her and studying his face. After a beat of silence, he stated, pensively, “It’s the pursuit.”

“What?”

“I think you miss the pursuit. The chase. The excitement. Is that what you mean by glitter?”

Rebecca said nothing at first, her thoughts muddled and hazy. “I don’t know. Maybe? I’ve done a lot of chasing in the past,” she admitted quietly.

Nathaniel swallowed and stared straight ahead. “I don’t know what you want from me, Rebecca.” The solemnity and finality of his tone scared her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“This whole time we’ve played by your rules. And now it feels like you’re saying, despite all the work we’ve done, it’s still not enough for you. I’m not enough.”

Rebecca frantically grabbed his arm and objected, “No, no, no. Nathaniel, please.”

Nathaniel looked out the window, away from her. His tone had a harsh edge, all its usual tenderness vanishing in an instant. “What do you want me to do? Play hard-to-get? Treat you like garbage, like your ex's did?” 

Ouch.

“No! Nathaniel, come on.” 

Nathaniel lifted his arm to glance down at his watch. “It’s almost time for your appointment,” he observed bitterly.

“No, I can’t leave. We can’t leave things like this. We need to keep talking. Nathaniel, please,” she begged.

He licked his lips. “I need some time alone and you need to think about what you really want.” With a hint of a smile he added, “I’m obviously not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you get back, I promise. Just go.”

His walls were back up, higher and stronger than before, shutting her out. And this time, it was her own fault. 

*****

“Rebecca, sit down,” Dr. Akopian demanded for the third time.

“I can’t sit down, because I really screwed this one up, Akopes. Ugh, why did I have to say that _stupid_ thing about the glitter?!” She balled her hand into a tiny fist and hit the middle of her forehead. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“This self-flagellation is not productive. You know that.”

Rebecca acquiesced and collapsed onto the couch. After a pregnant pause, she said, in a low voice, “I have been trying so hard not be obsessed with him. And I’m not. It’s not like how it was with Josh. But if I don’t feel that glitter, what does that mean? Is it good or is it bad? I want it to be good but it also seems bad. I don’t know. I’m so confused.”

“Slow down. Are you worried that if you don’t get that _glitter_ feeling it means you’re not in love with him?”

Rebecca buried her face in her hands. “Yes,” she groaned. 

“And that thought upsets you.”

Rebecca lowered her hands, letting them rest on her thighs. “Of course it does. The thought of hurting him makes me physically ill.” She grabbed her stomach for emphasis. 

“How would you describe your feelings toward him?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Rebecca bit her lip, her gaze faraway and unfocused. 

When she didn’t respond, Dr. Akopian tried again. “How about this. Close your eyes. I’m going to describe a scenario and you tell me how it makes you feel.”

Rebecca let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

“When you see him for the first time after an absence, how does it feel?”

She thought back to Christmas. When she flung open the door and he was standing there, in a soft, navy sweater and his trademark smirk, like a wrapped gift she immediately wanted to tear open. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him like a needy barnacle. 

His soft laugh in her ear. The scratch of stubble against her cheek. His sturdy arms supporting her. The smell of his neck. All things she didn’t realize she would miss until they were apart.

“Um, it’s like seeing a best friend. A best friend I want to have sex with constantly.”

“Ok,” she acknowledged and Rebecca could hear the smile in her voice. “And when you go to sleep together at night, how does that feel?”

She imagined their countless nights together. His slow, even breathing against the back of her neck. The way he tugged her closer and closer during the night, sometimes draping his leg over hers. How he nuzzled her hair and whispered that he loved her. 

“It feels comforting. Warm. Safe. I feel...wanted.”

“And tell me how it felt to see him lying on the ground in pain today.”

That was easy. “It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest.” 

Fuck.

She loved him. She loved him so fucking much. 

When her eyes snapped open, Dr. Akopian was giving her that look she absolutely hated. The you’re-having-a-break-through-and-I-knew-it-was-coming-all-along look. 

Rebecca sighed, “I get it.”

“What do you get?”

“You’re saying that the glitter is the infatuation. And _this_ is what real love is, but I’ve been too dumb to recognize it because I’ve never gotten past the obsession part into the actual love part.”

Dr. Akopian shrugged. “I didn’t say any of that.”

God, she hated that look.

“So, I love him. _I_ love him. I _love_ him.” Each time, she said it with a different inflection, getting accustomed to the feeling of the words in her mouth. “I love him and I pushed him away. Great. Great job, Rebecca” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Slamming her eyes shut, she cried, “Why am I like this?!” 

“Rebecca, I understand you’re frustrated, but try not to beat yourself up. We’ve done some great work these past six months. It’s ok to let go of a little control. Let yourself feel those _in love_ feelings without pushing them away.” 

“No, I can’t. I can’t. God, why is everyone pushing me? Nathaniel’s pushing me. Paula’s pushing me. You’re pushing me. None of you get it!”

“Get what?”

“I cannot allow myself to go there again. To get obsessed again. I _cannot_ go back to that dark place ever, ever again. I just can’t.”

Dr. Akopian leaned forward in her chair and her eyes softened with empathy. “Rebecca, it’s good that you’re recognizing and acknowledging those fears. But you also can’t live your life trying to suppress your feelings.”

“What am I supposed to do now?” Rebecca asked, meek and insecure.

“Keep moving at a pace you feel comfortable, but don’t discount your feelings. Eventually you will need to learn to _trust_ yourself.”

*****

After her session, Rebecca drove straight back to Nathaniel’s apartment, but lingered outside in her car for several minutes. Her mind grappled with the idea of telling Nathaniel the truth. 

The truth was she loved him. But she was afraid.

The truth was he deserved validation.

But the truth was she didn’t trust herself. Not yet. Not completely. 

She reached into her purse and pulled out the key to his apartment. Since he gave it to her, she had only used it a handful of times. Only in case of emergency. She thought back to the day he gave it to her. To use her own words, she had been in a really dark place. But instead of succumbing, she stayed strong. Pulled herself out. And he helped. He stayed. He supported her. 

She pressed the key to her chest. It wasn’t glitter, but she felt something. Intimacy? Affection? Absolutely. Trust? A definite yes. Love? She thought so.

Her feet carried her on autopilot to his door. She turned the key over a few more times in her hands before finally plunging it into its home.

As promised, Nathaniel was in the same spot on the couch, his back unnervingly straight. When he heard the door open, he craned his neck to greet her, still trying to keep the rest of his body stationery. Not bothering with any preamble or niceties, she shrugged off her jacket and tossed her purse on the floor in the foyer. She walked straight to him and perched on the coffee table so they could be face-to-face. “We need to talk,” she said.

“Yes, we do,” he agreed and set his phone down on the couch next to him. The hour or so apart had not been kind to him. His eyes were glassy, his face strained and drawn. He cleared his throat. “Rebecca, if you want to break up,” he began.

“What?! No, no, no. Oh my god.” She grabbed both his hands in hers. “Listen to me. Please. I never should have said the thing about the glitter. It was stupid. I’m stupid.”

Nathaniel, unconvinced, raised his eyebrows. 

“Nathaniel, I know _nothing_ about how to be in a real relationship. This is the longest I’ve been with one person. And I thought that feeling of can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, can’t-function-without-the-other-person was love. But I was wrong. It’s infatuation, obsession. It’s drama. It’s chasing a high that’s completely unsustainable.”

While she meant for her words to be encouraging, they seemed to deflate Nathaniel even further. His shoulders fell slightly, his eyes downcast. “Ok,” he said.

“Nathaniel, what we have is better than glitter. I care about you. Like, for real care about you. A lot. When I saw you on the floor earlier, I felt like I was going to vomit or have a heart attack or maybe both at the same time.”

Nathaniel squeezed her hands. A crack in the wall.

“I trust you. I feel safe with you. I don’t put on an act around you. I have never been more honest, more myself, with anyone. Ever. I know those things aren’t sexy or exciting, but they mean _everything_. I’m sorry I made you doubt me, even for a second. I thought about what I want, like you said. And what I want is you. I want _you._ ”

For a long moment, Nathaniel was silent, lost in his own thoughts. He bit his lip and nodded slowly, processing everything she had said. His subdued reaction rattled her and she began to worry she had fucked things up beyond repair. But then the corners of his mouth curled up and she could breathe again. “I really want to kiss you but I can’t move,” he finally said, his voice full of mirth.

Relieved, Rebecca immediately lunged forward, bracing her hands on his thighs, and pressed her lips to his. He wrapped one of his hands around the base of her neck, threading his fingers through stray strands of hair and pulling her close. The slow drag of his lips and the sweep of his tongue against her bottom teeth elicited a soft moan that she felt bubble up from deep in her throat. The smell of dried sweat and his peppery deodorant blended together, creating an intoxicatingly masculine scent. Was swooning a real thing? Because, if it was, she was doing it. 

When her back began to ache from her awkward position, she reluctantly pulled away. Still palming her jaw, running his thumb over her cheek, he affirmed, “I want you too. In case that wasn’t clear.”

She giggled.

“Rebecca,” he continued, his voice scratchy and raw, “I want you to know that this isn’t always easy for me either.”

“What does that mean?”

He dropped his hand from her face and rubbed the back of his neck. Oh no. He was gearing up to tell her something. 

“I’ve never told anyone I love them before. Except my mother, of course. The truth is I don’t know what I’m doing either. I know it’s not the same as what you’re going through, but this is new for me too.”

She sucked in a breath, completely taken aback by his admission. The words formed at the back of her throat. _I love you too. I love you so much._ She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to speak the truth out loud. 

Before she had the chance, he went on, “I’m sorry. About what I said. About your ex’s. That was a dick thing to say.” 

She laughed, “Yea it was. True, though, unfortunately.” The moment flitted away and she buried the words down. Another day. Another day soon she would tell him. “Hey, how about we get you in the shower? I’ll wash your hair for you, just the way you won’t admit you like.”

He reluctantly accepted the help. And when he couldn’t bend over far enough, he shampooed his own hair, while she helped wash the rest of him. He made jokes about her short stature and she piled suds into places his couldn’t reach in retaliation. But he had the last word when he angled the shower head at her, soaking the hair she was adamantly trying to keep out of the spray.

Afterward, in fresh clothes and still-damp hair, she massaged the offending muscle while he lay prone on his stomach. He groaned in both pain and appreciation while she tried not to get turned on by the sound coupled with the smell of his newly clean body.

When it was time to sleep, their usual position (Rebecca on her right side, little spoon) was out of the question, so she tucked herself into the crook of his arm. This would have to do. 

“Nathaniel?”

“Hmmm?” The hum rumbled through his chest against her ear.

“We’re ok, right? You’re not mad? That I freaked out on you?”

One of his eyes cracked open. “Yea, sunshine,” he mumbled, half asleep. “Don’t worry.” He tightened his arm around her and kissed the crown of her head. 

After that day, things were different. More clothes showed up in his closet. The drawer began to overflow. Ruth Gator Ginsberg moved in, claiming a space next to Termingator. Her makeup spilled across the bathroom counter. Her laptop bag made its home in his entryway. His shower became littered with soaps and conditioners. Strands of her hair invaded the apartment, clogging his drain, clinging to his t-shirts. 

It was a goddamn mess. But he didn’t complain, didn’t even tease her about it. Not in those first few weeks she finally let her guard down.

Rebecca treaded water, turning away from the comfort of the shoreline, instead facing the horizon where her future lie. She trusted her arms and legs would support her but, if she faltered, she knew Nathaniel was there to give her a momentary respite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the final chapter of this part of the _Rebecca & Nathaniel Give Love a Chance_ universe: _Nathaniel Gets Serious._
> 
> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace


	8. Nathaniel Gets Serious.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel goes on a shopping spree and contemplates some tough choices. Rebecca plans a surprise for Nathaniel. Things get messy.

Nathaniel did not consider himself a sentimental person. Sentimental people wallowed in nostalgia and cried at movies and hoarded objects with no utility because they’ve assigned some absurd, undue meaning to them. He did not indulge in such nonsense. As a self-proclaimed minimalist, Nathaniel combed through his apartment twice a year and ruthlessly threw away or recycled anything that lacked a clear function. 

(Marie Kondo would be proud, though his criteria was all about usefulness and nothing about sparking joy.)

However, just because _he_ wasn’t sentimental didn’t mean he ignored Rebecca’s inclination to be annoyingly sentimental about just about everything. When he gave Rebecca the key to his apartment on their six-month anniversary, it was solely for her benefit, of course. A gesture to show his commitment, that his door was always open to her. A gift he knew would appeal to her overly sentimental nature. 

Over time, though, the presence of the key stirred up a myriad of unexpected emotions within him. Each time he caught her unconsciously rubbing the key’s metal surface, or staring thoughtfully at it when she thought he wasn’t looking, he felt a little flutter in his stomach. On the days she slept over, a tiny thrill flowed through him when she casually locked up behind them. And when she skipped out of a gift shop at _The Wizarding World of Harry Potter,_ proudly holding up an overpriced, emerald-toned Slytherin keychain, he couldn’t help but feel something akin to pride blossom in his chest.

Despite his weakness for this show of domesticity, his apartment still boasted no framed photos of family or friends. And, until Rebecca came along, even his phone had a definitive lack of evidence of loved ones. Nowadays, though, his phone was filled with photos. Of her. Selfies mostly, which she snapped by stealing the phone out of his grasp. Sometimes he pretended to protest, especially when she included him in her seemingly endless supply of goofy poses, but he never deleted the photos. 

(Not one.)

On days like today, when he was undoubtedly _not_ feeling sentimental at all, he swiped through the photos. With a few minutes to kill over the lunch hour, while he waited for his order to be completed at the _FedEx Office,_ he opened his camera roll. (How hard could it be to assemble twenty bound and collated presentations by noon?) He could have sent anyone from the office for the pickup, but Dr Akopian recommended giving himself a mental break during the day and, he had to admit, it did help clear his head. 

_San Diego Zoo. The entrance of the Tiger Trail. Rebecca points up at the sign behind her and Nathaniel’s chin rests on her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her middle, smiling like a lovestruck idiot._

_Nathaniel’s kitchen. Cupcake frosting sits atop both their noses and Rebecca smears more onto his cheek while she laughs._

_Rebecca’s living room. Rebecca holds up a Scrabble scoresheet in triumph, the word “Za” for 62 points circled three times._

_The redwood forest. Rebecca in silky sapphire and Nathaniel in a tux. Nathaniel leans over, his arm resting on the chair behind her, and plants a kiss at her jaw while she smiles demurely at the camera, her hand cupping his cheek._

_Rebecca’s bedroom. Rebecca, wearing a Gryffindor t-shirt, proudly shows the camera a pair of plane tickets to Orlando, her mouth agape in delighted surprise._

_Nathaniel’s bedroom. Nathaniel, in bed, reclining, his hair tousled, his eyes drowsy, while Rebecca stares up at him in adoration in an oversized maroon t-shirt._

_Nathaniel’s living room. The couch. Rebecca pouts, sticks out her bottom lip, and points at Nathaniel’s midsection, where he is secured into a black back support wrap. Nathaniel rolls his eyes skyward, but the corners of his mouth twitch up into a subtle smile._

When his binders were finally ready, an employee called out, “Order for Plimpton?” Nathaniel quickly closed the app, cleared his throat, and picked up the copies proffered by the teenager, muttering a “Thank you” over his shoulder as he left.

Later, Nathaniel could argue that browsing through the photos of Rebecca primed him to slow down at the _West Covina Jewelers,_ located two doors down from the _FedEx Office_. The storefront window displayed a backdrop of the New York City skyline, complete with a Statue of Liberty, impeccably crafted with cutouts of thick white paper. In the foreground, on small silver pedestals, several necklaces and sets of earrings sparkled in the LED showcase lighting. 

Let the record show he didn’t believe in signs. But, if such things did exist, this seemed like a pretty big one.

A soft bell rang when he opened the door. For all the prestige the window display promised, the inside of the store was rather underwhelming by comparison. The interior was rather small, either side lined by mahogany glass cases, the walls decorated with kitschy paintings of flowers. A few of the customers milling around donned t-shirts and boardshorts, and the employees were dressed in business casual. Ordinarily, Nathaniel would not shop at this type of establishment to impress someone with a gift, though, the place had a decidedly charming, quaint appeal. Very West Covina. By proxy, very Rebecca.

With some hesitation, he approached a case filled with a collection of earrings, setting the binders down gently on the glass top.

“Good afternoon. Can I help you find anything?” An older gentleman with kind eyes, partially obscured by a set of thick-rimmed glasses and bushy caterpillar eyebrows, greeted him from behind the counter. 

“I’m just browsing, thanks,” he replied dismissively. 

“What’s the occasion?” the man asked, not letting him off so easy.

“Anniversary,” he said, the words coming out automatically. The employee quickly glanced down at his left hand, so he followed up with, “Girlfriend.”

“Mazel!” the man congratulated. “My name is Moshe and I would be happy to help you find something. A pair of earrings with her birthstone is a nice gift. When is her birthday?”

“April.”

The man chuckled, “Oh boy, you’re in for it.”

“What?”

“The April birthstone is diamond.”

Nathaniel laughed politely. “Ah. I see.”

“Let me show you these,” he said, retrieving a pair of diamond solitaire stud earrings from the case and setting them on top. “Half a carat with white gold. Very nice.”

Nathaniel tilted his head and frowned. “Do you have anything in a bigger stone?”

“Big spender!” he joked while putting the earrings back. “You a big-shot lawyer or CEO or something?”

“Good guess. Real estate lawyer.”

As the employee picked out another set of earrings, he mused, “I have a real estate lawyer friend. She helped me with a case and I gave her a discount on some non-blood diamonds.” He winked. 

“A lawyer here in West Covina?”

“Yea. Maybe you know her. She was on TV once. Rebecca Bunch.”

Nathaniel’s mouth dropped open. 

Moshe showed him the next pair of earrings. “If you want to impress, these are one carat, set in platinum, the best we have in clarity. Beautiful.”

At that moment, a sunbeam caught the earrings, making them sparkle, glitter exploding in its tiny orbs. One carat, one year. It all made some kind of weird sense in his mind.

“I’ll take them, thanks,” he announced, in a moment of decisiveness. 

“Great, congratulations!” As Moshe wrapped up the purchase, he asked, “So is she your _bashert?_ ” 

Nathaniel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“Your soulmate?”

Nathaniel opened his mouth but no words came out. Officially, he didn’t believe in soulmates. Just like he didn’t believe in signs. A silly concept, he thought, perpetuated by the film industry to sell tickets. Officially.

After Nathaniel didn’t respond for several seconds, Moshe jumped back in, “I ask because we also have engagement rings. When you’re ready, of course.” He gestured to an adjacent glass case filled with engagement rings of every size and cut. 

Ah, an upsell opportunity.

“So what’s her name?” Moshe asked, making small talk.

Nathaniel scratched at his cheek and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Uh, it is Rebecca, actually. Rebecca Bunch.”

Moshe stopped wrapping. “Really?! She’s a lovely woman, isn’t she? Smart, funny, cute. And, you know, I probably have her ring size on file.”

“I’m not here to buy a ring. Thank you,” he replied, waving him off. 

Again, Moshe disregarded his protest. “Let me just show you one I think she would love,” he insisted, abandoning the earrings and scooting over to the case with engagement rings. 

Not wanting to be rude, he let Moshe show him the ring. He placed it on the counter with a flourish and exclaimed, “Look at this rock! Three carats. Clarity is divine! Princess cut. The band is encrusted with pave diamonds. Gorgeous. A woman like Rebecca deserves a ring like this, don’t you think?”

Nathaniel chuckled despite himself. Of course she did, and this salesman knew exactly what he was doing by posing the question. The only answer to the question was _yes_ and he certainly couldn’t argue that the ring was breathtaking. It was flashy without being obnoxiously ostentatious. 

Most of the women in his former social circles measured the worthiness of their relationship by the size of their engagement rings. And while he didn’t think Rebecca subscribed to this ideology, he did know that the ring was important. The ear-piercing squeals he heard all the way from his office when she got engaged to Josh still rang in his ears.

_Just focus on my ring! Look at my ring, guys! I have a ring! A ring! See? See? See?_

If that hunk of junk Josh gave her caused that kind of reaction, how would she react to this ring?

Shaking the memory of her previous engagement out of his mind, he instead imagined kneeling at Rebecca’s feet, sliding this ring onto her finger while she nodded _yes_. Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she jump up and down? Jump into his arms? Would she immediately call her mother? Or Paula? 

_My fiancée._

_My wife._

The idea of her walking around with tangible evidence of their relationship on her finger made his stomach do a somersault. 

Moshe grinned knowingly at Nathaniel. “That’s the face of a man who’s found The Ring,” he stated proudly. “I knew it. And since I consider Rebecca a friend of mine, I’ll even give you a discount.”

Nathaniel, jolted out of his reverie, scoffed, feathers sufficiently ruffled at the thought. “Excuse me, I’m not buying it at a discount.”

Moshe’s thick eyebrows raised. “Oh, so you’re ready to make a choice?”

Nathaniel straightened up. “Yes, I’ll take the ring too.” He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “I mean, it’s perfect for her, right?”

Moshe nodded. “I immediately thought of this ring when you said her name.”

“Wrap it up,” he proclaimed, pleased with himself. 

And that’s how Nathaniel managed to spend tens of thousands of dollars in the span of twenty minutes.

He left the store with a spring in his step, adrenaline tingling through his body, spreading from the top of his head down to his toes. When he returned to the office, he couldn’t bear to leave the ring in the car unattended, so he tucked it in the inner breast pocket of his suit jacket. 

Midway through the afternoon, Rebecca popped into his office and he nearly jumped out of his chair. 

“Hi!” he responded cheerily and then modulated his tone. “Hi, sorry.”

“You’re jumpy,” she observed. “Do you want me to pass out those presentations?” 

“Sure, that would be great. Leave ten aside for the clients. Thank you.”

Rebecca grabbed the stack of binders off the edge of his desk while eyeing him skeptically. “You ok?”

“Great. Never better.” He patted the pocket over his heart in an unconscious gesture.

“You still having drinks with WhiJo at Home Base?”

He had forgotten all about it, but pointed back at her in acknowledgement as if he didn’t. “Right. White Josh. Yep.”

Rebecca squinted at him. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing! Everything’s fine,” he reassured her a little too vehemently.

“God, you’re so weird. Listen, I want you to come over to my place this weekend. I have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

Her eyes shined in anticipation. “I may have gotten a little drunk and spent a little money on a little website called Amazon. It’s gonna be fun. You’ll see.”

*****

“Dude, you are practically vibrating. What is up with you?” 

White Josh and Nathaniel sat at the bar at Home Base later that evening, White Josh sipping on a beer while Nathaniel slowly nursed an old fashioned. Since they arrived, Nathaniel had been fidgeting restlessly, drumming his fingers on the counter, swirling his drink, running his hands through his hair.

Nathaniel leaned toward White Josh and whispered conspiratorially, “I bought a ring.”

“What?”

Nathaniel reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out the black box. When he opened it to reveal the ring, White Josh’s eyes bugged out, stunned.

“What the hell?” White Josh whipped his head back and forth, as if the ring was armed and dangerous. “Put that thing away!” 

Nathaniel snapped the box closed and return it to his pocket.

“I mean, that’s a hell of a rock, so congrats on that, but what are you thinking? You’re going to propose to Rebecca?!”

Nathaniel shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “I don’t know. I kind of bought it on impulse.”

“On impulse?! Who are you? You don’t buy an engagement ring on impulse and you _definitely_ don’t propose marriage on one.”

“Calm down. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“First off, it _is_ a big deal, so huge red flag there. But, you _are_ going to do it? Soon?”

Nathaniel shrugged again, no answer forthcoming.

“God, how can you be so smart and such an utter dumbass at the same time?” White Josh moaned.

Nathaniel winced, offended. “Listen, I know what this is about. You hate Rebecca. You always have. You never give her a chance.”

White Josh interrupted, “Actually, it is _not_ about that at all. It’s about the fact that you’ve been together less than a year. It’s about the fact that you’ve never even met her family and, for whatever reason, she still doesn’t want your relationship to be public knowledge. It’s about how she tried to commit suicide right before you started dating and she’s still working through a bunch of stuff in therapy, which, by the way, is the one thing I highly approve of her doing. Should I go on?”

Nathaniel picked up his drink with a flick of his wrist. “Stop, please. Message received.” He sipped his drink and stared at the far wall, his shoulder slumping. 

“Sorry,” White Josh offered in a gentler tone. “I get it. You love her...or whatever.”

Nathaniel turned his head and pinned him with a disapproving stare.

“Ok, you love her,” White Josh acquiesced, reluctantly acknowledging his feelings. “But why can’t that be _enough?_ I mean, why does everything have to be about marriage and babies anyway? Everyone’s always looking for that next step. No one’s ever satisfied. I mean, why can’t two people just love each other and be happy and live their lives? Why isn’t that ever enough for people?” 

Nathaniel squinted and cocked his head to the side.

“That may have been more about me than you.”

“You think?”

“Sorry.”

Nathaniel, now self-conscious, tried to explain, “Things have been really good between us. When I’m with her I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. And I think she is too. So when I saw the ring I thought...I want us to be this happy...forever.” He put his drink back down on the counter and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Wow, that does sound naive and stupid, doesn’t it?”

White Josh sighed. “It’s not stupid. I’m not saying you should never get married. I’m saying give it more time, ok? Do you even know if she would say yes?”

Nathaniel stared down at his drink, not wanting to verbalize the truth.

“Yea, dude, you never ask a person to marry you if you don’t know the answer beforehand. Don’t blindside her.” 

As much as he hated to admit it, White Josh was right. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. 

White Josh watched him for a moment and then took a swig of his beer. “Have you thought about moving in together? If you really want to know if you could marry her, _that’s_ what you should do. That’s when all the shit hits the fan.” 

Nathaniel perked up. “That’s not a bad idea.”

*****

“It’s a bad idea,” Nathaniel explained, exasperated, to Dr. Akopian the next day. 

“Why?” Dr. Akopian was pushing him today, more than usual. 

“I can’t just go no-contact with my father. It’s impossible.”

“Why is it impossible?”

“The biggest reason, obviously, is the firm we own together.”

“That’s the biggest reason?” Dr. Akopian asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Nathaniel picked at his cuticle as he considered this. “I know how it sounds. But it’s the truth. My whole life I wanted a real father-son relationship with him. I thought I could shove all those horrible memories into a little box in my brain and forget about it.” He sighed and rubbed his hands over his thighs. “I need to face I can never forget. And that he’ll never act like a loving father toward me.” 

Dr. Akopian nodded sympathetically. “Going no-contact is one possible option. Many victims of abuse find that cutting the abuser out of their lives, even if it’s a family member, provides a lot of solace and accelerates the healing process.

“It’s not that I wouldn’t be thrilled to never talk to that asshole again. It’s just so complicated. Our lives are so intertwined with the firm.”

“Let’s play it out, simply as a thought experiment. What would you have to do to disentangle your lives?”

“Well, I would have to cash out of the firm. I don’t see how we could continue to be co-owners.”

“Does the business have enough funds to do that?”

Nathaniel blew a raspberry with his lips. “They would barely blink at the amount. And, to be honest, they would probably try to low-ball me out of spite, given the circumstances. The capital gains hit is their only risk and that amount of money means nothing to them. The only reason we could take a gamble on this firm in West Covina is because they have more money than they know what to do with. Plus, they could easily find another partner to buy in.”

“What would you do for work?”

He stroked his chin. “Apply to another firm? Start my own firm maybe?”

“And what about personally?”

“Most times I avoid going home unless it’s a holiday party I’m forced to attend. Honestly, ninety percent of our interactions are for show nowadays.” After a beat, he continued, “I would miss my mother, though. I don’t know who she would side with.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Awful, obviously. Of course I want my mother to defend me. But she never has, which is part of the reason I’m here, so why would she start now?” he spat, not hiding his bitterness.

“Nathaniel, maybe take a moment for a breath.”

Nathaniel begrudgingly obeyed, deeply breathing in and out three times.

“You won’t know, about your mother, unless you give her a chance.”

As an aside, Nathaniel interjected, “They would never see me get married.”

“Married? Are you thinking about marriage?”

“No. Yes? Just hypothetically. They would never get to know her.”

“Is that important to you?”

“I don’t know. I think my mother would like her.”

Nathaniel picked up a tiny, foam stress ball that sat on the coffee table between he and Dr. Akopian. He squeezed a few times, testing it out. Focusing on the ball contracting and expanding, he went on, “I guess you have a vision for how your life is supposed to go. You know? Graduations. Weddings. You imagine your parents will be there for those milestones.” He paused, the sadness of the whole situation bubbling up inside him, threatening to burst. “Everyone hates the thought that their parents won’t be around forever. Just that thought alone can be paralyzing in the first place, let alone choosing to cut your parents out of your life deliberately.”

Dr. Akopian wrote something down on his pad. “Are you aware you started talking about yourself in the second person?”

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Uh, no. Was I?”

Dr. Akopian nodded. “Do you know why?”

“Um, I’m distancing myself?” he guessed.

“Yes. It’s a defense mechanism.”

“Duly noted.”

“Nathaniel, I know this is tough. I think you’re a person who wasn’t given much agency growing up. Choices were made for you. And I’m trying to help you see that the future is in your own hands now. You can choose a different path.”

*****

That night, after leaving Dr. Akopian’s office feeling unexpectedly empowered by his little pep talk, Nathaniel sat on his couch with a legal pad and scribbled down his thoughts about exiting the firm. Already two whiskeys down, number three sitting on the coffee table in front of him, he was on a roll, the paper covered in notes. 

Unfortunately the cons outnumbered the pros at this point. Damage to his reputation. To the family’s reputation. To the reputation of the firm he helped build. Uncertainty about future career prospects. No longer working side-by-side with Rebecca everyday.

The items in the pros column, by contrast, were a lot less tangible. Mental health. A clean slate. An opportunity to choose his own path. 

He glanced up at the coffee table, where the engagement ring sat snuggled up a few inches away from his whiskey. Another decision currently on the docket - to return the ring or not to return the ring?

Turning over to a new sheet on the legal pad, he wrote:

_Rebecca Plimpton_

He laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. Over her dead body, he presumed.

_Rebecca Bunch-Plimpton_

More realistic.

He took a sip of his drink and lingered on the name, the ring shining like a beacon in his peripheral vision. Shaking his head, he tore the sheet from the pad, crumbled it into a ball, and threw it in the direction of the kitchen. 

He leaned forward and closed the ring box. What a stupid idea. 

...or not.

A new idea struck him like lightning. Nathaniel quickly rose from the sofa and rushed over to the kitchen, stumbling awkwardly over himself as the effects of the alcohol kicked in. He picked up the paper from the floor and unfolded it. He spread it over the kitchen counter, smoothing out the wrinkles. After staring at his scrawl for a moment, he wrote:

_Bunch & Plimpton_

_Bunch & Plimpton & Associates_

He grinned from ear-to-ear. Brilliant.

“This is a great idea,” he said out loud to an audience of Ruth Gator Ginsberg and Termingator, who both stared blankly back at him from the corner of the living room. “Right? Right, guys? This is genius. I’m a genius,” he slurred. 

The next day, Nathaniel left a voicemail for his local business attorney to schedule a meeting. 

He decided to keep the ring. 

*****

A surprise. At her apartment. 

Nathaniel hadn’t the slightest clue what it could be. Since he bought the engagement ring, he had been distracted, at best, with her. (Distant, at worst.) He hoped whatever she planned would take his mind off his father and the firm and the failed-before-it-even-began engagement.

When he knocked on her door, dressed down and armed with red wine, a peace offering for his recent aloofness, he heard a distant whirring noise coming from inside the apartment. 

No response from Rebecca. 

He knocked again, louder this time, and he heard her pitter-patter steps across the wood floor.

Rebecca, donning a yellow floral apron over a t-shirt and leggings, flung open the door, and the noise, coming from the kitchen, ratcheted up several decibels. 

Over the din, she shouted, “Hi honey! Oh my god, I’m so excited.” She gestured wildly with what he mentally, lovingly referred to as her _manic hands._ “So you know how you won’t eat ice cream with me and I’m always saying _Nathaniel, one scoop of ice cream is not going to kill you_ and then you say something that makes me feel guilty like _Can’t you accept me for who I am_ so then I switched from _Ben & Jerry’s_ to _Halo Top_ low-calorie ice cream in solidarity but you won’t even touch that so I’ve just been eating ice cream alone and being sad that you won’t eat it with me?”

Her eyebrows raised expectedly as she waited for his answer, the noise now seriously starting to form an ache at the base of his skull.

“Yes? What is that noise?” he asked putting a finger up to his ear.

“Well, I bought this machine, it’s called _Yonanas_ , isn’t that a cute name, _Yonanas,_ and it makes ice cream using only bananas! Only forty dollars, can you believe it? Totally worth it so we can eat ice cream together.”

__“Oh…”_ _

__“I just crammed a ton of bananas in there and some other fruit and nuts and stuff and it’s making the ice cream! Aren’t you excited?” She raised both her hands in a _ta-da_ motion._ _

__On the kitchen counter behind her, a plethora of bananas, frozen strawberries and blueberries, almonds, and a bottle of chocolate sauce stood proudly in a row._ _

__“Wow,” he said and squeezed her shoulder with his free hand, “this is really sweet.”_ _

__“Yay!” she squealed and bounded back to the kitchen. He followed a few steps behind and placed the wine on the counter next to all her other accoutrements. “What do you want? I have strawberries, blueberries, some mango in the fridge,” she began to list, pointing to each item on the counter in rapid succession. “I have almond, peanuts, chocolate sauce, butterscotch…”_ _

__On her last word, the machine sputtered erratically in a way that certainly couldn’t be normal, and suddenly chunks of bananas in various states of solid and liquid came projecting out, splattering all over the kitchen. Both Rebecca and Nathaniel, caught in the crossfire, took a considerable amount of damage to their clothes. And, the final pièce de résistance, a quarter-sized chunk of banana with a half-chewed consistency hit Nathaniel’s cheek with a thud._ _

__Rebecca’s mouth narrowed into an o-shape and then she slapped both her hands over her face in shock. Nathaniel, in a state of whiplash, stood next to her, frozen, unsure how to react. The machine, all its contents fully expelled, grew quieter and quieter until it fell completely silent._ _

__“Nathaniel I’m so sor -” she started and lunged forward to wipe the mess off his face. The sloshy mess of banana on the floor provided no traction, so her sudden movement sent her sailing backward, her socked feet sliding out from under her. In a knee-jerk reaction, Nathaniel reached out to catch her but it only ended up making him fall forward on top of her, sending her to the floor at an even greater velocity._ _

__She landed on her back, letting out a high-pitched scream, though thankfully she didn’t have far to fall, and Nathaniel caught himself with his hands on the floor on either side of her just before his full weight would have come crashing down on her. Her arms, which had instinctually raised to shield her body, smashed up awkwardly between their chests. They both panted, trying to catch their breaths, while they stared at each other, wide-eyed, trying to process what just happened. Rebecca frantically searched his face, worry etched in the wrinkles of her forehead._ _

__Then, Nathaniel started to laugh. A full-bodied, head-to-toe, deep, rumbling laugh._ _

__Relieved, she exhaled, her body relaxing, and joined in. It started as a giggle, but quickly escalated into a wild cackle, the absurdity of the situation sinking in._ _

__“I’m...so...sorry,” she said, in a staccato bursts, in between wheezing laughter. She wiped away the banana that clung to his face._ _

__“What the hell just happened?” he cried, incredulous, his abdominal muscles starting to ache._ _

__“I don’t know! Maybe I put too much in!” she shouted, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She shifted her body under his and cringed. “Oh gross, my back is all wet and cold. All I wanted was for you to eat some stupid ice cream!”_ _

__Nathaniel sank down to his forearms to give his wrists a break and dropped a kiss first to her lips, then to her neck, where he lapped up a piece of frozen, mangled banana with his tongue. “There, I ate some.”_ _

__She lightly pushed at his chest. “That doesn’t count!”_ _

__He grinned down at her mischievously. “It’s in your hair, you know.”_ _

__“Ahhh no!” she cried, reaching up and touching her hair. “You think this is hilarious don’t you?”_ _

__He shrugged. “Karma, I guess. I told you I don’t eat ice cream. You never listen.”_ _

__“You jerk!” She reached next to her on the floor, grabbing a palmful of nearby smashed strawberry and rubbed it over his jaw. He quickly retaliated by scooping up a handful of goopy banana and smashing it on the neck of her t-shirt, while she writhed beneath him, giggling and squealing, in a losing battle against his considerable advantage in strength._ _

__“Ok, stop, stop! I give up! I surrender!”_ _

__He relented with a grin. After planting a quick kiss to her cheek, he wiped the fruit off of her neck and face and tucked her hair behind her ear, all while her eyes followed his._ _

__“I hate you,” she said, but her voice held nothing but tenderness._ _

__“I hate you too,” he replied, in the same soft tone._ _

__White Josh was right._ _

__This was enough._ _

__“Hey, let’s clean up and go get some real ice cream. My treat.”_ _

__“Really?” she asked, her voice childlike and full of wonder._ _

__“Really.”_ _

___A park bench. Nathaniel holds the phone this time. They both clutch ice cream cones, his vanilla, hers mint chocolate chip. Rebecca looks at Nathaniel, laughing, pure joy radiating from her face, while Nathaniel sheepishly makes eye contact with the camera. His first selfie._

That night, while Rebecca slept on peacefully beside him, he set the photo as the wallpaper of his phone. 

Maybe he was sentimental after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com
> 
> Art credit to: @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace


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